


Forever Vigilant: The Immortal Coil

by AlyaKihaku



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 141,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyaKihaku/pseuds/AlyaKihaku
Summary: Eleanor Howlett, sister of Wolverine and Sabretooth, is an Agent of the S.S.R. working with Howard Stark and Dr. Erskine. While helping Colonel Phillips train the Super Soldier candidates she finds herself rooting for Steve Rogers. Follow them as they charge head first into something neither of them had ever thought possible. *currently on Captain America: The First Avenger*





	1. Captain America Part 1

The crowd of the New York World's Fair could have populated a small town. Men, women, and children running about with bright smiles on their faces as they took in the new wonders, paying little to no attention to the utterly uncomfortable look on my face.

After turning down Howard's pleasant request to be his show girl I had retreated to the recruiting tent, telling myself to breathe properly as I leaned against one of the support poles, arms wrapped around my waist and eyes crammed shut. I had lit a cigarette but it was quickly forgotten, burning away pinched between my fingers.

"Excuse me, miss, are you okay?"

I jerked out of my thoughts, eyes snapping open and body tensing as I looked over to where the voice had come from. He was at least a head shorter than me and had to weigh half my weight. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, both bordering on disturbingly perfect. His clothes didn't look like they fit him like they should have but they suited him none the less. While all of this was surprising enough it was the look of pure concern on his face that got me.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, holding his hands up in the universal sigh of 'I mean no harm.'

I shook my head and wasn't able to keep back the small smile. "It's alright," I told him, my voice surprisingly soft.

He gave a small smile of his own before the concern was back full bore. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

"You're the first person to ask me that," I stated. "Hundreds of people here and nobody notices except for you. Why?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. "I-I just hate seeing a dame-a woman-a lady-" he broke off with a suffering sigh.

My smile grew at that. "Not a lot of people care these days. They just keep their head down, pretend they don't notice," I accused, glancing up to said passing crowd. "Something tells me that you don't do that."

"It's not right," he said, a slight resolve sweeping over his face. "If you can help you should."

I looked over to the entrance of the tent, watching the young men flow in and out. "Are you going to enlist, then?"

"I'm going to try," he stated.

I had seen handfuls of men like him during the first war. Men who knew they wouldn't last long on the battle field but wouldn't give up till they tried to make a difference, men who were willing to die for a cause they believed in.

"The army needs more men like you," I mused, grimacing slightly when the slow burn of the cigarette reached my fingers. I let it drop to the ground, my foot reaching out to crush it. "Most soldiers are just boys who thought it would be fun."

He frowned at that, seeming to understand a little too well. "Bullies fighting bullies."

"That's how the song usually goes," I agreed. "Honestly, I'm getting tired of hearing it."

A reassuring smile pulled at his lips. "It'll get better."

"You sound very sure about that."

"I have a feeling."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are they usually right?"

"So far," he answered with a small chuckle.

I chuckled with him before holding my hand out to him. "I'm Eleanor, by the way."

He looked between me and my hand before clearing his throat and grabbing it. "Steve."

"Well, Steve," I said, noting how gentle his hold on my hand was, "I think you're going to do something great."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Really?"

I nodded. "I have a feeling."

He laughed lightly, still a little surprised. "You know, you never answered my question. Are you okay?"

I nodded with that smile he had put on my face. "I am now."

A blush dusted across his cheeks as he cleared his throat and shot his eyes to the ground. "Oh, sorry," he said when he realized he was still holding my hand and let it fall. "I didn't mean to-"

"You're fine, Steve," I assured him.

He nodded quickly and glanced over to the tent entrance, that spark back in his eye.

"You should go before you lose your nerve," I told him, silently cursing myself for suggesting he leave.

His head snapped back up to me; that resolved expression back on his face. "Thank you, Eleanor."

My eyebrows pulled together. "For what?"

"For not telling me that I can't do it."

My heart clenched at that, knowing form his tone that he was probably told that about a lot of things. "I think you can do anything you set your mind to," I told him. "Good luck, Steve."

He gave me an appreciative nod and walked off.

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his scent swirling around my head as I committed it to memory, hoping that, one day, I would see him again.

"El!"

I looked back to the crowd and found Howard making his way over, a bright smile on his face.

"It flew!" he exclaimed, practically jumping over to me in excitement.

I gave him an amused look. "It hovered for 10 seconds then died," I stated.

His smiled dropped. "You saw that?"

"I think all of New York saw that," I told him with a chuckle before wrapping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a side hug. "I'm sure you'll get it working. I mean, that big head of yours has to be for something, right?" I asked, reaching up to flick his forehead.

He rolled his eyes as his arm wrapped around my waist. "Come on, let's get some Cotton Candy," he said before leading me off to one of the carts.

* * *

**~One Week Later~**

"Howard, for the last time, yes, I have everything I need," I sighed, watching as the genius paced around the barrack room I would have to myself due to the fact that I was the only female at the base. "Hell, I have things I didn't know existed. I'm going to be okay."

He stopped in the center of the room and held his hands up. "I just want to make sure that my El is as comfortable as she can be," he stated.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not your El," I told him. "You make me sound like your dog."

He let out a laugh. "Well…."

"Hey!" I snapped before flinging my pillow at him.

He caught it just before it hit his face. "Alright, I'll leave," he said, tossing the pillow back to me before walking over. "Have fun, El. Beat these lounge lizards into shape."

"I shall do my best," I told him. "Have fun with Ab. Please don't blow yourself up again."

He waved me off. "That was a onetime thing," he told me. "Won't happen again. Ever."

I nodded slowly. "Huh, whatever you say, Howard," I said, patting his shoulder.

"Shut up," he told me, pressing a kiss to my cheek before heading out the door. "Try not to kill any of them!" he called behind him.

I waved after him as he hopped in his car and drove off, leaving behind him a trail of dust till the tree line. "Overgrown child," I muttered before heading back inside to put on my uniform. I grabbed the package and tore into it like a child at Christmas. I couldn't hold back the laughter that came from me when I found a tan pencil skirt in my hands.

* * *

"Agent Eleanor Howlett reporting for duty!" I called as soon as I stepped through Colonel Chest Phillips' door, snapping into a perfect salute with a bright smile.

He looked up from his paperwork and gave me a dry look. "Yes, I can see that," he said before looking me over. "Didn't we give you the female uniform?" he questioned.

"You did. Laughed my ass off when I saw it," I told him.

He chuckled lightly. "I thought you would get a kick out of it," he stated before pushing a stake of folders closer to me. "The candidates," he told me.

"When do they get here?" I asked, picking the top file up and flipping through it, a little sad to find that he was a high school dropout.

"Tonight," he answered. "Too late to really do anything so training starts early tomorrow morning."

"I'm guessing that's my responsibility?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head. "Despite your accomplishments you're not completely responsible for all of them," he told me. "The training will be split up between you and another drill sergeant. Though your training will be more 'in the field' than him seeing as you're the only one whose actually seen combat."

Colonel Philips finding out about my past hadn't been something I nor Howard or Ab had anticipated. He had showed up at Ab and Howard's lab a week after I had met him with a file marked 'Unknown Soldier.' Inside was every scrap of information that could be found on me during the other wars. Pictures of me in the trenches with my brothers, letters to HQ about me from other officers, and of course several of my death certificates. All three of us had attempted to deny the truth but then Philips pulled 2 photos of his own out. The first was a grainy picture from the Civil War, the soldiers lined up in uniform as they posed for their platoon photo. The second was similar although the quality was higher and the uniforms were different as they too posed for their platoon photo. The two things both photos held in a stark similarity was me and a Phillips.

The Civil War was chaos for everyone. People were flooding to join and when it came to enlisting they were pretty lax. My brothers and I didn't officially start fighting in the war till we found a battle ground and several uniforms still in good condition. World War 1 was a little more organized but just as easy to get into. That time, however, we had stuck with a squad of soldiers stationed in the trenches, the men never asking any question about where we had come from or who we were. They simply knew us as J, V, and E.

It had shocked me at first to find that I fought with Chester's father and Chester himself, but then I remembered all the familiar faces at the memorials and realized that it wasn't that strange.

"You've seen it too," I reminded him.

He gave me a look. "True, but between you and me, you're the only one who can still crawl under barbed wire without throwing their back out."

I let out a snort and dropped the file back to his desk. "You're not that old. I'm a 105 and you don't see me complaining."

"Ha. Ha," he said, his voice reaching a whole new level of monotone. "Get out of here," he said, waving his hand towards the door.

I chuckled. "Goodnight, Chester," I said as I stepped back out the door.

"Goodnight, Eleanor."

* * *

Saying that I wasn't a morning person would be an understatement. They hung over me like a rain cloud and anyone unfortunate enough to be around me at the time would get caught in the down pour.

Being too tired to care about little to nothing, I walked across the training fields dressed in the army green pants I had bullied out of one of the corporals, the standard white T-Shirt hanging loose around my shoulders, black combat boots on my feet and a cigarette hanging from my lips. I knew what kind of sight I must have looked but I found it rather difficult to care.

The candidates were lined up in a neat row in the middle of the chaos that was the base, clean uniforms pressed and hopeful looks on their faces as they took it all in.

Taking one last drag I crushed the cigarette into the grass and walked over, fully intended to make this the worst morning of their existence when I saw him.

Steve.

Surprisingly my day looked a little brighter.

"Attention!" I shouted once I was close enough, a smile pulling at my lips when they managed to make their backs straighter. I clasped my hands behind my back and began the pace, looking them over as I went. "I am Agent Howlett and I will be overseeing your training along with-"  
"I didn't know they let broads into the army. Thought they left them at home in the kitchen?"

I came to a stop in front of a particularly brood of a boy, a goofy ass smile on his lips as he considered himself a witty man for insulting their commanding officer. He probably thought he would get away with it. "What's your name?" I asked, straightening my own back and looking him level in the eye.

"Gilmore Hodge, sweetheart," he answered with a wink.

I gave him a soft smile. "Gilmore, would you do me the favor of taking a step forward?" I asked, attempting to make my tone as 'innocent' as I could make it.

His smile grew as he did just that. "Are we going to dance?" he asked, glancing back at the other boys around him. "Cause I've got some moves you'd like."

I chuckled lightly and nodded. "Perfect," I said before snapping my arm forward.

A satisfying crunch and a howl of pain filled the air as he fell to the ground, clutching helplessly at his nose.

"Aw, broken noses always hurt," I stated, looking down at him, my smile now gone. "Imagine what a bullet to the chest or a knife to the back feels like."

He stared up at me, his eyes wide with fear and shock.

"You are here because you are a candidate to be something bigger than yourself. If you can't get past your own ego then I don't see a reason for you being here," I told him, a growl mixing in with my voice. "Speak out like that again and I'll break more than your nose, do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"Yes what?"

"Yebs, Ma'am," he spoke, his voice taking on the comical mispronunciation that came with a broken nose.

"Get back in line."

He crawled to his feet, streams of blood trailing to the ground as he did so, one of his hands still helplessly pressed to his face.

"Agent Howlett."

I looked over my shoulder and found Phillips climbing out a jeep, a smile already on his face as he looked Hodge over.

"I see you're breaking in the new candidates," he said, his tone far too chipper for this early in the morning. "For future reference, gentlemen, Agent Howlett holds grudges and has permission to do whatever she sees fit with your pitiful little lives," he said, his eyes landing on Hodge once again. "God have mercy on your soul."

I couldn't help but smile at that.

Phillips shot me a smile of his own before he started to pace in front of the men. "General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons, and they are won by men," he said, his voice carrying. "We are going to win this war because we have the best-" he broke off when his eyes came to my new favorite, "men," he continued, shooting a look behind me. "And because they are going to get better. Much better."

I raised an eyebrow and looked behind me only to find Dr. Abraham Erskine standing a few feet behind me, an innocent smile on his face.

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history but every army starts with one man. At the end of this we, will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-solider. And they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of hell."

* * *

It always amazed me how peaceful military camps were at night. The crickets chirped, the stars shone bright and the overall sense of solidarity almost made the outside world vanish. After years of trenches and front lines military bases had become twisted versions of sanctuaries, the calm before storms. Victor held a strong dislike for bases. He often compared them to the gates that kept racehorses back. It gave him a certain anxiety that made the other soldiers nervous. Jimmy found them to be a false sense of security. He said that they give the men hope, hope that the rest of the war is just as organized; just as controlled. I, on the other hand, happened to love false senses of security.

"Can we help you, Agent Howlett?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and found two M.P.s watching me with questioning looks. I gave them both an easy smile and shook my head. "Just taking a late night stroll, gentlemen," I told them. "At ease."

They both nodded and we passed each other with a mutual understanding.

I glanced back at them before turning down the walkway that ran in front of the barracks. I came to another stop when I spotted a figure sitting on one of the steps. "Steve," the name slipped from my lips before I could stop them.

His head snapped down and surprise slapped across his face. "Eleanor- I mean, Agent Howlett," he said, practically throwing himself off the stairs to stand at attention.

I startled laugh left me as I shook my head. "No, you don't have to do that," I told him, walking closer to him. "It's just us."

"But you're an agent," he protested.

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have found myself in a very compromising position of favoritism," I told him.

Confusion pulled at his face. "Favoritism?"

I nodded. "Fortunately," I answered.

He shook his head. "I don't understand, ma'am."

"You're the only one who noticed," I reminded him.

A slight blush creeped across his cheeks as he glanced down at the ground.

"I was hoping that I would see you again but I didn't think it would be like this," I mused.

His head snapped up again. "You were?" he asked.

"You made a lasting impression on me," I told him, an easy smile on my lips. "I wanted to see how things turned out for you."

He laughed lightly and glanced back at the barracks. "I think they turned out swell," he stated.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so too," I told him. "I also think that you're the best candidate."

He looked back to me with surprise once again. "You do?"

My eyebrows shot up. "You have seen the others, would you pick any of them?"

"I think it's too early to decide," he stated. "It's only been a day."

I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my lips. "That right there," I said, pointing a finger at him. "You're in a competition but you want a fair chance for your competitors. Not a lot of men would think like that."

"More men should," he stated before a flash of anger crossed his face. "What Hodge said was completely out of line. You shouldn't be spoken to like that, agent or not," he said, an underline anger to his tone.

I shrugged, honestly a little flattered at his defense of me. "I think I handled the situation pretty well."

He nodded quickly. "I don't think anyone would question you on that," he said, a large smile pulling at his face. "You've got a mean right hook."

"It's been said," I agreed with a chuckle, remembering all the times Jimmy had told me just that. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

He sighed and his smile dropped slightly, that resolved look back in his eyes. "Won't know till I get there," he answered.

I let out a huff of laughter and nodded. "I suppose not," I mused. "Get some sleep, Steve, you're going to need it."

He nodded, the smile still on his lips. "Goodnight, Eleanor," he said, backing up towards the stairs.

"Sweet dreams, Steve," I said, waving to him.

He waved back before the back of his heel hit the last stair and he stumbled.

I held in the laugh that threatened to bubble up as I spun around and headed back towards the officer's barracks.

* * *

The week flew by faster than I had thought it would, the candidates training going frustratingly well, all but Steve doing perfectly.

He had got his foot caught in the rope wall.

Hodge had knocked over one of the barbed wire posts while Steve army crawled under it.

And now I was waiting at the half way point of their full gear run, looking over the boring paper work Philips had pushed onto me.

"Pick up the pace, ladies!" the drill sergeant yelled. 'Let's go, let's go! Double time!"

I growled at the volume of his voice and turned in my seat to glare at the sweating men running up the trail. I was about to turn back to the papers before I noticed that Steve was at the back of the pack, out of formation by at least twenty yards while he struggled to get the air he desperately needed.

"Faster! Faster! Move! Move!" the sergeant yelled before they got to the flag pole. "Squad, halt!" he yelled.

They all stopped, panting like overrun dogs.

The drill sergeant point up to the tattered base flag. "That flags means we're only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Howlett!" he told them, gesturing over to me and the jeep. "Move! Move!"

They convulsed on the flag pole, throwing themselves at it like rabid animals. Each trying to pull themselves up the pole while pulling the others down.

"Come on! Get up there!" he yelled. "If that's all you got this army's in trouble! Get up there, Hodge!"

I narrowed my eyes as the arrogant man attempted to pull himself up the pole, praying that he would fall and break something. My prayer was answered as he slipped and fell to the ground, the men stepping on him in an attempt to get their own shot at the pole.

"Nobody's got that flag in 17 years!" the drill sergeant said, overly smug at that fact. "Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!"

I sighed and looked back to the papers, more than a little relieved that Hodge hadn't gotten the stupid flag.

"Rogers, I said fall in!"

I jerked back around, my eyes instantly finding Steve as he reached down at the base of the poll and pulled a pin free. The ten foot tall poll fell to the ground, a clang sounding through the air. Steve tossed the pin over his shoulder and strutted over to the flag, pulled it free, bundled it up and handed it to the sergeant.

"Thank you, sir," he said before walking over to the jeep and climbing in.

I couldn't help the bright smile that pulled at my lips, a little surprised that I got one back. I couldn't help but laugh and look back at the other who were still in shock over the fact that the man they had beat down on bested them. "I guess it's true," I stated as the M.P. started the jeep and took off down the road.

"What's true?" Steve asked, the smile still on his face.

"That brain beats brawn," I answered, leaning against the back of my seat.

He glanced away as a small blush touched his cheeks.

"How's your asthma?" I asked, silently hoping that he wasn't going to have an attack. I didn't know much about it but I knew that running five miles at full tilt wasn't a sublime condition for it.

Still smiling, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing I can't handle," he told me.

"I'm really glad you made it," I admitted. "I think I would have thrown Hodge out if he had gotten that flag."

He shook his head. "He just doesn't understand that there's more to a problem than the solution."

"And you still insist that the others have a chance," I mused, chuckling as I shook my head. "You'll make a great leader, Steve."

"It's only been a week," he argued. "I mean, Rome wasn't built in a day."

"True," I agreed. "But they knew its potential from the beginning."

He opened his mouth to counter but seemed to lose whatever it was he was going to say.

With a pleased smile I faced the proper way and placed my feet up onto the dash, a feeling of self accomplishment sweeping through me.

* * *

The annoying burn of the up and down of pushups had set into my arms but I knew that it had to be worse for the others. "Come on, boys!" I called, raising my head to watch them struggle to follow me. "Just a few more!"

Groans of frustrations left them as they complied, dipping themselves towards the ground again.

"You're not thinking about picking Rogers, are you?"

I looked over to the supply truck to find Phillips and Ab watching us.

"I'm more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice."

"When you brought a 90-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought 'what the hell' maybe he'll be useful to you, like a gerbil. Plus Eleanor seems to like him. I never through you'd pick him."

I pushed myself to my feet. "Jumping jacks!" I called, easily falling into the movement as I kept my ears on the two men.

"You stick a needle in that kid's arm, it's gonna go right through him. Look at that. He's making me cry."

I glanced over to Steve and found him struggling.

"I am looking for qualities beyond the physical."

"Do you know how long it took to set up this project? All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator what's-his-name's committees?"

"Brandt," Ab informed him. "Yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts."

"Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's fact. He obeys orders. He's a soldier."

"He is a bully."

"You don't win wars with niceness, Doctor. You win wars with guts."

My heart dropped at the familiar sound of a grenade hitting the ground reached my ears.

"Grenade!" one of the sergeants yelled.

Spotting the weapon a few yards away I moved to run for it but froze when Steve dove for it.

He curled in on himself, the grenade trapped between his torso and legs. "Get back!" he called when he spotted me. "Get back!"

I pulled in a sharp breathe and suddenly I was gone.

_Dirt and blood flew through the air as another grenade went off, screams of pain and shouts of panic following after. I lowered my arms and looked over to where my brothers had been standing to find them attempting to get a retaliation against the enemy. Comforted in knowing that they were still in one peace I looked over to where the blast had come from and had to keep myself from screaming._

_His name was Harry Wilson and he had a wife and three children at home. He had a dog named Max and his parents had passed away the year before. He had once known why he had joined the war but as soon as he entered the trenches he had forgotten and often cried when he thought of his family._

_Harry's fingers dug into the ground as he tried to drag himself towards me, mouth hanging open as blood dripped down his chin and his eyes glazed over. His waist was nothing more than a shredded mess of flesh while what was left of his legs lay farther down the trench. A trail of blood followed him as he struggled, the red staining the ground below him._

_Mangled words escaped his bloodstained lips before a wheeze left him and he went limp._

"Eleanor?!"

I jerked in a sharp breath as the trenches faded and the base came back. I forced myself to blink several times as I shoved the memory as far back as I could.

"Eleanor!"

I focused my eyes and found Ab standing in front of me, a concerned look on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Steve," I whispered out, flashes of dismembered bodies filling my head.

"He is fine," he assured me. "It was just a dummy grenade."

"He's alive?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, see?" he asked before moving over slightly to show a worried looking Steve seated next to a grenade.

Relief flooded over me at that but the sick twist in my stomach didn't lessen. I pulled in a shutter of a breath and took a step backwards, my head shaking slightly. "I-I can't…." I stuttered out.

Ab nodded gently and casted a look over my shoulder. "That is perfectly fine."

I jumped when hands appeared on my shoulders but relaxed when Phillips scent reached me.

"He's still skinny," he told Ab before leading me off in the direction of the barracks. "What happened?" he asked once we were out of earshot.

I shook my head a little more forcefully. "The trenches," I said, my voice shaking.

His step faltered slightly but he continued forward, a knowing look on his face. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault I'm screwed in the head," I stated, my heart already starting to slow.

"It's not yours either," he reminded me.

I took in and let out several deep breathes. "If I can't handle something like that then I shouldn't be on the front lines."

Phillips gave me a pointed look. "It's different there than it is here, we both know that," he said. "If you want my honest opinion you shouldn't be here; you should be with your brothers."

"You don't think I tried?" I demanded, glaring over at him. "Victor had to stop me from mugging a recruit for his uniform."

An amused laugh left him at that and he shook his head. "Do you know where they are?"

I shook my head again. "I know where they started but we never stay in one place for too long. Too many questions start to pop up when you're the last few still alive."

He gave me another concerned look. "Are you going to be okay?"

I cleared my throat and nodded. "It's nothing new," I answered.

He sighed and came to a stop outside my barracks. "Get some rest. I'll have someone bring you dinner later."

"Thanks," I said before making my way up the stairs.

* * *

The knock at the door pulled me from my vacant daze. I glance down at the open book in my hands before closing it and tossing it to the foot of the bed. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Steve peeked his head in.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, stepping in. "Colonel Phillips said you hadn't eaten since this morning and…." he trailed off, gesturing to the covered tray in his hands.

I sighed, feeling a little disappointed in myself for not knowing that Phillips would send him. "Thank you, Steve," I said, holding my hands out for it.

He walked forward and passed it to me, his eyes scanning across my face with that worried crease between his eyebrows back. "Are you okay?"

I laughed softly, all humor gone. "We have to stop starting conversations with that question," I told him.

"Alright," he mused before clearing his throat. "Thank you."

"What did I do this time?" I asked, picking up the fork and poking at the untrustworthy looking meat.

"I don't think I would have made it this far if you hadn't been here," he stated, a certain solidarity to his tone.

I made a noise of disagreement as I took of bite. "I don't think that's true," I said, my face pulling slightly in disgust when I realized I couldn't identify the meat. "It's like I told you at the fair. You can do anything you set your mind to."

He let out a slightly frustrated sigh. "You have no idea what you did, do you?" he asked.

I looked up to him, slightly alarmed. "What did I do?"

"Eleanor, you are the only person besides my mother who believed I could do something like this," he told me, "and you didn't even know me. I have gone my whole life having people tell me that I can't do something because of what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," I stated firmly, that familiar anger from being told the same thing bubbling up. "People are cruel. If they see something that doesn't fit their definition of normal they get scared. Telling you that you can't do something was their way of trying to get rid of you because you're different than them," I explained. "There's not a damn thing wrong with being different, Steve," I told him, a smile pulling at my lips. "And you know that or you wouldn't be here trying to prove it."

"I'm not trying to prove something," he denied.

"You are to yourself," I stated. "It's like you said. You've had people telling you your whole life that you can't do something, and you've spent an equal amount of time telling yourself that you can. If there was ever a time to prove something to yourself," I shrugged," this would be it."

He watched me for a moment before letting out a rather big breath. "How do you always manage to be one step ahead of me?"

"Practice," I answered before pointing down at the tray. "Do you know what that is because I don't."

He laughed at the sudden subject change. "Haven't a clue."

"That's great," I said, dropping my fork and picking up the apple. I took a rather generous bite and glanced out the widow, my smile returning when I spotted the recruits being loaded onto a bus. "They picked you, huh?" I asked.

A blush flushed across his face as he nodded. "Yes."

"Told you," I mused, looking back to him. "Ab told you what's going to happen?"

He nodded.

"Are you nervous?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

I chuckled lightly. "I would be terrified," I told him. "But you seem to have a certain bravery that I don't so you'll be fine."

He shook his head. "Now that's not true," he argued. "I saw you move forward when that dummy grenade dropped. I was just closer."

I lost my smile at that. "I still can't believe you did that," I mused. "What that would have done to you if it was real," I said, the memory of Harry flashing through my head, a grimace pulling at my lips when the smell of burnt flesh followed.

Steve shifted his weight, his eyes glancing down at the floor before he looked back to me. "I know it's none of my business but…what happened?" he asked, his tone cautious.

I let out a long sigh, deciding that this probably wasn't going to be the last time he saw it. "It's called Shell Shock," I answered. "It's mostly flashbacks but there are moments of disorientation or forgetting where you are. You'll see or hear something and it just takes you over. It's a side effect of over exposure to war."

His eyebrows pulled together. "Over exposure?" he asked. "But you…..you've seen combat?"

I shot him an amused smirk. "I didn't earn the title Agent by sitting on my ass, you know," I told him. "I can't tell you much because most of it's classified but I can tell you that I've been at it for three years.

He wasn't doing a very good job at masking his astonishment. "Three years?"

I nodded. "They recruited me in '39."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "They recruited you?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the amazement in his tone. "I don't know if you've noticed but I'm kind of special," I stated, flashing him a cocky smirk before taking another bite of the apple, my cheeks puffing out from the size of it.

Steve let out a snort of laughter before he caught himself. "Oh, no, I've noticed," he said. "It's kind of hard not to."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I told him. "Speaking of special, do you believe me now?" I demanded.

"Believe what?" he sighed.

"I've been telling you from the very beginning that it would be you but you never believed me," I accused. "Even Ab knew then but Phillips wouldn't let him skip the trials."

He looked a little helpless. "Really?"

I hummed an agreement. "There's something about you, Steve Rogers," I told him. "I don't know what it is but it instills a lot of hope."

His cheeks pinked once again, an almost uneasy smile on his lips. "I'm just a kid from Brooklyn."

"And I'm a house wife," I deadpanned, taking another large bite. "You need to start seeing yourself a little more clearly or we're going to have a problem. How are you going to escort Hitler to the gates of hell if you don't think you're special? Because that's pretty damn special."

He chuckled weakly. "That's only if it works."

"It'll work," I assured him. "This whole thing is too ridiculous not to."

Steve let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, thanks."

I shot him a wink before footsteps outside the window caught my attention. I peered out and found Ab standing on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets and a pensive look on his face.

Steve followed my gaze and cleared his throat. "Uh, big day tomorrow, I should head in early."

"Okay," I allowed, my smile once again returning. "Thank you for bringing me dinner."

He nodded quickly. "Any time," he said, backing towards the door. "You're going tomorrow, right?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"I'm the one escorting you."

He let out a small sigh. "Swell. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Make sure you actually sleep," I told him, giving him a pointed look. "We don't need you dozing off during the procedure."

He dipped his head. "I'll try. Goodnight, Eleanor."

"Goodnight, Steve," I said, not really surprised that I found myself disappointed in his departure, the new feeling having bubbled up two weeks ago. I watched the door for a moment longer, allowing my thoughts to wonder about the possibilities of tomorrow before I remembered that Ab was waiting outside. Taking another bite from the apple I pushed myself up from the bed and out the door Steve had just exited.

"I did not mean to interrupt you," Ab said as soon as I was close enough, a regretful look on his face.

I shook my head and gave him an easy smile. "It's fine," I assured him. "What's wrong?"

"Why should anything be wrong?" he questioned back.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you smell like Snopes," I stated, a teasing smile on my lips. "That crease between your eyebrows is back, you've been chewing your lips, and you keep shifting your weight back and forth. If something wasn't bothering you then you would standing as still as a rock, plus you would be on your way to the lab. Ergo, something is bothering you."

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "You are far too observant for my liking," he said. "Yes, I suppose something is bothering me."

"And that something is?" I pressed.

"Steven."

I nodded slowly. "In what context?"

"What if tomorrow does not go as planned?" he asked. "What if I send a good man to his death?"

"'Success is a science; if you have the conditions, you will get the result'," I said, letting my head drop back to look at the orange colored sky, a few stars already shinning.

Ab chuckled lightly. "Oscar Wilde."

"He's not wrong," I mused. "You've been working on this for over a year, it's going to be fine."

"But-"

"Jesus Christ, Ab, if you're not confident then what the fuck are the rest of us supposed to do?" I demanded, giving him a pointed look.

His eyes widened and after a moment he chuckled. "I think I shall never be used to that mouth of yours," he stated, a smile pulling at his lips.

"I would be severally worried if you did, Ab," I told him. "Are you sure that the serum is done?"

He nodded.

"Are you sure that the equipment Howard made is done?"

He nodded again.

"Are you sure that Steve can make it through this?"

He nodded once again.

"Then there isn't a damn thing for you to be worried about," I said, taking the last bite from my apple. "I mean, the worse that can happen is he turns out like Schmidt."

He let out a startled laugh and nodded. "Yes, yes, I suppose that's right," he allowed.

"Good. Now why don't you head over to the lab and go over everything with Howard one more time so you can actually get some sleep," I suggested, flashing him a smile.

He sighed and nodded. "I shall do that," I told me. "Thank you, Eleanor, you were most helpful," he said, reaching out to pat my shoulder before walking back down the path he had come from. "Pleasant dreams!" he called.

I chuckled and shook my head, chucking the apple core towards the trees and dropping my head back to look at the stars. "It's moments like these that would be convenient if I was the praying type," I mused.


	2. Captain America Part 2

"I know this neighborhood," Steve stated, looking out the window as we passed a street where a few boys were playing baseball.

I looked over as well, a little pleased to find that I knew it too.

"I got beat up in that alley," he continued, pointing to it as we drove by. "And that parking lot….and behind that diner," he said, his eyes dropping down to look at his hands.

I couldn't help but smile. "You really don't like running away from things, do you?" I asked.

"You start running, they'll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back," he said, looking up to me with a grin. "They can't say no forever, right?"

I shook my head. "Not forever," I agreed. "We're proof of that. Neither of us are really supposed to be here."

Confusion pulled at his face. "I wanted to ask you but I didn't want to be nosy…" he trailed off.

"Nose away," I told him.

He thought for a moment. "I guess I just don't understand why you would want to join the Army if you were a beautiful dame," he said before wincing. "Woman. Beautiful woman," he amended, a blush sweeping across his cheeks.

The rare compliment sent a flutter through my chest. "I grew up around it," I answered. "Me and my brothers."

"Brothers?"

I nodded. "Victor and Jimmy; both older," I answered. "What about you?"

He nodded. "Bucky," he said, a smile stretching across his face as he looked up to me. "He's the closest thing I have to a brother."

"Is he in the army?"

"Sergeant in the 107th. He was the reason I was at the fair," he explained, an almost uneasy laugh leaving him. "He dragged me and these two dames along."

My eyebrows furrowed. "He wasn't with you when you enlisted?" I questioned, a little surprised that the person he considered a brother wasn't there when he made a considerably big life decision.

A small sigh left him and his smile dropped. "Nah. The girls wanted to go dancing and, well….." he trailed off with a shrug.

"Well?" I pressed.

"Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on," he answered, his tone going a little bitter.

"Have you tried asking them?"

A humorless chuckle left him. "Well, asking women to dance always seemed so terrifying," he admitted, shifting to look out the window again. "And the past few years, it just didn't seem to matter that much. I figured I'd wait."

"For what?"

"The right partner," he stated, glancing over at me before turning his gaze back out the window.

The smile that spread across my face was not a conscious decision and I struggled to get it to go away but as much as I fought it, it simply refused. By the time the car pulled up to the curb I honestly didn't care who saw me grinning like a complete idiot.

Steve opened the door and got out, holding it open as he offered me a hand.

"Such a gentleman," I mused, placing my hand in his and allowing him to keep me steady as I crawled out of the car. I paused once out, taking a moment to make sure my balance was there before walking towards the antique shop, the heels on my feet and skirt on my legs threatening to betray me at any moment. I had argued with Philips when he told me that I would have to wear the female uniform but I was quickly silenced when he threatened to not let me go.

"What are we doing here?" Steve asked, following behind me with a confused look on his face.

"Don't worry," I told him, moving to open the door only for him to practically leap forward and do just that. I looked at him, startled for a moment before nodding. "Thank you," I told him, stepping in to be greeted by the familiar old woman I had never gotten the name of.

"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?" she asked, her tone a little overly pleasant.

I nodded, silently cursing the person who had come up with this stupid code. "Yes, but I always carry an umbrella," I told her.

She moved around the counter and pressed the button hidden underneath, the bookcase through the curtained doorway opening to reveal the hallway to the lab.

I gave her a thankful nod and stepped forward, glancing back to make sure that Steve was still following me.

The two MPS at the end of the hall reached over and pulled open the double doors, the basement like lab waiting behind it.

As soon as we stepped out on the stairway landing every eye in the room turned to look at Steve, gawking slightly as if not knowing this was who they were going to work with.

"Ignore them," I told Steve as I stepped past him and walked down the stairs, my hand gripped firmly on the safety rail as I did.

"Good morning," Ab greeted, walking over to shake Steve's hand just in time for a camera to go off, the flash blinding anyone who hadn't been prepared.

I glared over at the military man holding the offending object. "Buzz off, bub."

He jumped slightly and made a strategic retreat.

"Are you ready?" Ab asked.

Steve pulled in an uneasy breath and looked to the machine at the center of the room. He watched it for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Good," Ab praised. "Now, take off your shirt, your tie and your hat," he instructed, gesturing as he did.

With a quick glance over at me he did just that, pushing himself up to lay flat on the machine once the nurse had taken his clothes.

"Comfortable?"

"It's a little big," Steve joked weakly.

Ab laughed at that.

Steve swallowed nervously. "You save me any of that schnapps?"

"Not as much as I should have," he answered, shaking his head. "Sorry. Next time," he promised before taking a step away. "Mr. Stark, how are your levels?" he asked.

Steve's head jerked over at that, his interest peaked at the familiar name.

"Levels are at 100%," Howard answered, casually strutting up to the machine, his hands in his pockets. "We may have to dim the lights in Brooklyn," he started, looking Steve over, "but we are ready….as we'll ever be."

Steve's expression turned worried at Howards statement.

"It's going to work," I said, forcing a bright smile onto my face. "They know what they're doing."

He didn't look convinced.

Howard looked to me with a smile. "Good morning, El," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Howard," I said, giving him the same forced smile I had just given Steve. "So glad to see that you didn't blow yourself up again."

He gave a few sarcastic laughs. "Ain't she a doll?" he asked, looking down to Steve.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him back towards the control panel. "Everything's going to be okay," I said, side stepping to take Ab's spot next to Steve. "You're going to be fine."

"Are you trying to reassure me or you?" he asked, that nervous smile back on his face.

"A whole lot of both," I answered, my hand coming up to grab his, attempting to ignore how both of them shook. "Remember how I said you could do anything you set your mind to?"

He nodded, his fingers wrapping around mine.

"I need you to set your whole mind to this, okay?" I asked. "Because when this is over I'm going to ask you for a dance and you better be able to do just that."

To say that he looked surprised would be an understatement. He recovered quickly, however, and gave me a bright smile. "In that case I better set a mind and a half."

I shook my head and leaned down quickly, pressing kiss to his cheek before I retreated to the control panel where Howard was now fiddling with the a few buttons. "This is going to work, right?" I asked him.

He glanced up to me. "I only understood what the Doctor explained to me, other than that I have no idea," he answered.

I pulled in a deep breath and grabbed his arm, my fingers digging into his muscle. "Howard, now is not the time to be honest with me," I told him, my tone hard.

His eyes widened, from pain or realization I wasn't sure. "Oh, then yes, it's going to work. I know what I'm doing. I understand everything," he said, flashing me that cocky smile of his. "Everything's going to be fine."

I watched him for a moment before letting out the breath I had been holding in. "That is a horrible false sense of security," I told him, letting his arm go and digging through my pockets for the carton of cigarettes I desperately hoped I had.

"You okay, El?" he asked, taking the packet and the lighter from me. "You're shaking," he pointed out, pulling out a cigarette.

"I may have gotten attached," I told him before closing my lips around the raised cigarette and inhaling when he flicked the lighter and held it to the end.

He raised an eyebrow. "Attached how?"

"If you make me say it out loud I will put this out in your eye," I threatened, pinching the white cylinder between my fingers and pulling it away to blow the puff of smoke in his face. "You know how."

He let out a low whistle. "I didn't know he was your type, El," he said, looking over his shoulder to Steve. "I mean, there's not much to him."

"Not everything is about looks, Howard!" I snapped, reaching up to flick his earlobe.

He yelped and covered the throbbing appendage, his eyes narrowed as he looked to me.

"I'd like to see you climb into that thing and do what he's about to do."

Howard rubbed at his ear as he seemed to think for a moment, the gears in his head turning. "You actually like him, dontcha, El?" he asked, his voice a little softer.

I looked away from him and took another drag, the smoke seeping through my teeth towards the ceiling.

"Well, if he's caught your eye then he must be something special," he mused. "He's going to be just fine."

I shot him a tense smile and turned my attention back to Steve as they buckled him into the machine while a cart carrying several vials of blue liquid was pushed over.

Ab stepped in front of the machine, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the military and government officials who were watching from the observation room. "Do you hear me? Is this on?" he asked, flicking it a few times, an annoying high pitched noise coming from the speakers as a pleased smile appeared on Ab's face. "Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path of peace."

I wrapped my free arm around me and leaned against the panel, my foot tapping against the concrete in its usual nervous fashion as I inhaled another lungful of smoke.

"We begin with a series of microinjections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then, to stimulate growth the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays."

Ab nodded to them before setting the microphone down and walking back to Steve, watching as they gave him a shot.

"That wasn't so bad," Steve stated, almost sounding relieved.

"That was penicillin," Ab told him, his voice a little grim.

Steve didn't seem so relieved anymore.

Ab gave him a small shrug before looking to the lab assistants. "Serum infusion beginning in…five…four….three…two….one."

I kept my eyes locked on the ground as they worked, not having the heart to watch.

"Now, Mr. Stark," Ab instructed.

Howard gripped a red lever and slowly lowered it, the machine raising vertically and closing, leaving only what looked like a pod or a coffin of the future.

"Steven, can you hear me?" Ab asked.

"It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?" Steve asked, his voice muffled.

Ab nodded and looked back down to Howard. "We will proceed."

Howard placed a pair of goggled over his eyes and began to turn one of the many wheels.

The window of the pod glowed bright, several assistants shielding their eyes and looking away.

"That's 10%!" Howard announced as he steadily turned the wheel. "20% 30. That's 40%!"

"Vital sighed say normal!" one of the doctors called.

"That's 50% 60. 70!"

The cigarette fell from my fingers when Steve's pain filled yell broke through the pod, my heart stalling in my chest.

"Steven!" Ab yelled, rushing forward to look through the window.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to take normal breaths, the words 'he can do this' shouting through my head like a mantra.

"Shut down the reactor, Mr. Stark!" Ab yelled. "Kill it! Turn it off! Kill the reactor!"

Howard moved to do just that.

"No!"

Everyone froze and looked to the machine, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Don't! I can do this!"

Ab and Howard looked to each other before Howard continued to turn the wheel, putting the reactor at 100%

The machines were deafening as they worked, spark flying through the air as the lights dimmed and flickered. After what seemed like a life time the light in the pod faded and everything went quiet.

With my eyes still locked on the ground I listening to the pod opening once again. I didn't look up until Howard muttered a 'holy shit'. My head snapped up and I found myself frozen once again.

Steve was, to say the least, not Steve. He was at least two heads taller and every muscle he hadn't had before was now present and rather impressive. The only thing that I didn't understand, and probably the most trivial, was how his pants fitted around his new waist.

Without much thought I rushed over to him, watching as Howard and Ab helped Steve step out of the machine.

"I did it," Steve gasped, still slightly panting.

Ab nodded, the amazed expression still on his face. "Yeah, I think we did."

"You actually did it," Howard said, his mouth hanging open.

"How do you feel?" I asked, clenching my hands together to keep them from fretting over him, the urge to make sure that he was okay almost overwhelming.

Still breathing heavily he looked down to me. "Blue."

My eyebrows pulled together. "You feel blue?" I questioned.

He laughed lightly and shook his head. "Your eyes. They're blue. I couldn't tell before."

A little part of my brain reminded me that he had been color blind, a medical condition that has seemed to have been remedied. I couldn't help the blush that burned across my face at the fact that my eye color was something he pondered. "You did it," I said, deciding to change the subject.

His smile widened. "I did it."

"Never doubted you for a minute," I told him before noticing the nurse standing off to the side, a white T-shirt clutched in her hands as she looked Steve over. My smile dropping slightly I snatched the shirt from her and held it out to him. "I hope that fits," I mused.

He laughed again as he pulled the shirt over his head.

Allowing the relief filled sigh to leave me I looked to Ab, a congratulations on my tongue before I saw his expression. "Ab?" I asked before an explosion ripped through the booth above us. I stood my ground and watched as one of the senator's men grabbed one of the vials.

"Stop him!" Ab yelled.

This was one of the times I wished my paranoia had had me on high alert. The man's gun was raised and fired twice, the bullets hitting Ab square in the chest.

I was too late to react. I was too late to save one of the few people who knew what and who I am. I didn't look back, I didn't stop to see who else might have been hurt. I simply ran after him.

It always amazed me how many casualties a spy could rack up in a short amount of time. The deaths aren't their mission but their survival, making them desperate enough to be at the top of their game when it comes to their getaway.

A frown pulled at my lips when I found the elderly woman lying with her machine gun by her side. I swooped down and picked it up, swinging the strap over my shoulder while I kicked the dreaded high heels off. I ducked behind the doorframe of the front door when the man and his friends drove by, machine gun blasts cutting through the operatives outside and the store front. I shouldered open the door and stepped out into the street, machine gun raised and aimed.

My smile returned when I took the driver out with one shot, the black car swerving to a stop. I shot off a few more rounds as he high jacked a taxi cab. The only mercy I was allowed was the fact that the cab was facing towards me. I readjusted my stance, crouching down and alternated my shots between the windshield and the front grill of the car. The frustration grew when the car didn't waver and the man didn't die.

When I was about to give up on the strategic attack and just let loose on the car a rather solid something slammed into me, throwing me out of the cars path just before it would have hit me.

"God dammit," I cursed, looking over my shoulder to find that it had been Steve who had pushed me out of the way. "What the hell, Steve?!" I yelled.

"Sorry!" he called as he pushed himself up and running after the taxi.

I growled and tossed the gun to the side before getting to my feet. I dusted off the horrible skirt and walked over to the failed getaway car, silently hoping that the driver had a few moments of life left to squeeze some information out of. I jerked open the driver's side door and leaned in, my fingers going to the man's neck as I checked for a pulse.

"Nazi piece of shit," I muttered, slamming the door shut and heading back to the lab.

* * *

**~Two Days Later~**

I've never been overly fond of morgues. I didn't like the cold and the smell of death always reminded me of the Civil War.

Ab's body laid on the metal slab before me, a white sheet covering him and the bullet holes in his chest.

Most would think that after years of being surrounded by nothing but death I would be used to it; used to people I had idiotically gotten attached to dying. I think it's easy to say that I have not, in fact, gotten used to it.

"Goodbye, Ab," I whispered, patting his arm before I stepped out of the room and walked over to the room they had taken Steve to when he had gotten back from his chase. I opened the door and stepped in, a little surprised to find they had found Steve a full uniform. "Do you think you have enough blood?" I asked, noticing the several jars of blood on the table next to him.

The nurse jumped and spun around. "A-Agent Howlett," she said, a hand pressed to her chest. She cleared her throat and nodded quickly. "Yes, we should have enough."

"Then scoot," I said, gesturing to the door I had just come through.

She nodded again, collected her things and bustled out of the room.

I watched her leave before looking back to Steve. "Are you okay?" I asked, stepping closer to him.

He gave me an unamused look. "I should be asking you that," he said, buttoning his sleeve. "You knew him better than I did."

I gave a soft laugh. "He would probably give us a lecture on how it's not wise to linger on thoughts of the dead," I mused.

He gave a laugh of his own. "I can see him saying that," he allowed, his thumb kneading the palm of his other.

"Hey," I said, reaching out to rest my hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, how are you feeling?'

"I, uh," he started, his eyebrows furrowing, "I don't really know. I feel fine but it's…"

"Different," I supplied.

He nodded.

"Steve," I sighed, "I would be worried if you felt anything but," I told him. "I mean, you're-" I broke off to look him over, "7 inches taller and 130 pounds heavier."

A sad smile pulled at his lips. "A new body."

"A new life," I corrected, patting his shoulder. "You didn't get it the traditional way but, I've found that you tend to break traditions."

He reached up and caught my hand, his now overly large hands all but consuming mine. "I owe you a dance," he noted.

I smiled like an idiot and glanced away out the window. "You do," I agreed, a sigh leaving me when I recognized Senator Brandt walking with Phillips through the lab, "but we'll have to take a rain check," I told him.

Steve looked up, noticed my distraction and followed my gaze, a frown pulling at his lips. "I know him," he mused.

"Senator Brandt," I told him. "He's the one who got us the government funding for the experiment. Come on," I said, walking to the door and heading down the stairs a few feet away.

"Colonel Phillips, my committee is demanding answers," the Senator stated.

"Great. Why don't we start with how a German spy got a ride to my secret installation in your car?" Phillips asked, shooting him a look before looking to Howard who was messing with the submarine like machine the spy had tried to get away in. "What have we got here?"

Howard let out a tired sigh. "Speaking modestly, I'm the best mechanical engineer in the country. But I don't know what's inside this thing or how it words. We're not even close to this technology," he answered, gesturing to all of it, a look of utter frustration on his face.

"Then who is?"

"Hydra!" I called.

The three men's attention shot to me.

Phillips smiled fondly at me. "I'm sure you've been reading our proofs."

Senator Brandt gave him an unamused look. "I'm on a number of committees, Colonel."

I rolled my eyes and stopped before them. "They're a Nazi deep-science division," I explained, a small smirk pulling at my lisp when the Senator took his hat off. "Johann Schmidt runs it behind the back of Hitler, clearly a man of much bigger ambitions judging by what he named the division."

They all gave me confused looks.

"In Greek mythology a Hydra is a creature that if you cut its head off then two more will grow in its place," I explained. "I believe it's safe to assume that Hitler is the first head and Hydra is the second."

Phillips nodded. "Hydra is practically a cult," he stated. "They worship Schmidt. They think he's invincible."

The Senator seemed far from impressed. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Phillips paused for a moment before turning to look to me. "I spoke to the President this morning. As of today, the SSR is being retasked."

That news was more than staggering. "What?" I blurted out.

"We are taking the fight to Hydra," he told me. "Pack your bags, Howlett. You too, Stark. We're flying to London tonight," he stated before walking passed me.

"What?" I blurted again.

Steve didn't seem to like it as much as I did. "Sir?" he asked, stepping forward. "If you're going after Schmidt, I want in."

Phillips turned and looked at Steve with distain. "You're an experiment. You're going to Alamogordo," he stated with a dismissive tone.

"The serum worked," Steve stated, confused by the fact that he was being pushed aside.

"I asked for an army and all I got was you," he stated. "You are not enough," he told him before walking off.

"Bullshit!" I snapped, ignoring the shocked expressions of the Senator and his man as I followed after Phillips. "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded.

He gave me a tired look. "I understand that you might have gotten attached to the class pet but the last few months have been a waste," he said. "We are retasked and there is no changing that."

"Class pet?" I asked, my eyes narrowed. "Is that what you thought of this whole thing? Of Ab's work? Of our work?"

He shook his head. "I'm not going to argue this with you. Say goodbye to your boyfriend, we're shipping out."

I resisted the urge to stab him as he walked off once again. I pulled in several calming breaths before walking back over to Steve.

"With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point. I've seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country's seen it. Paper," the Senator said, gesturing to his assistant who stepped forward.

I was a little surprised to find a picture of Steve using a detached Lucky Star Cabs door as a shield.

"The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands. You don't take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab."

I couldn't help but think that Steve was hearing exactly what he wanted to. I knew that he didn't want to be in a lab and I knew that he would want to fight.

The Senator put his hand on Steve's shoulder and started to lead him away. "Son, do you want to serve your country on the most battlefield of the war?"

"Sir, that's all I want."

My heart dropped at that.

"Then congratulations. You just got promoted," he said, shaking his hand.

I watched as the Senator gave Steve a set of instructions so they would be able to hammer out the details of what Steve would be doing for them. They shook hands once again before the Senator walked off with his little toady followed behind him.

I growled before stepping up to Steve's side. "Steve, are you sure you want to do this?" I asked him, concern running through me. I knew what Senators like him wanted and I knew that Steve wasn't going to get what he wanted if listened to him. He wasn't going to get to fight.

He looked down to me, his jaw clenched. "It's better than sitting in some lab," he stated, his voice taking on that bitterness again.

I grimaced at that. "I know, trust me, but you're not going to get to fight if you go with the Senator," I told him, reaching up to grab his arm. "He's not interested in winning the war, he's interested in the money it's making him."

"He's not war profiteering," he defended.

"How would you know?" I demanded.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Eleanor, I'm doing this," he stated, moving to walk past me.

"Okay, okay," I allowed, my grip on his arm tightening to stop him. "Listen, I won't try to stop you from doing what you want, I don't think I could, but I just want you to be careful," I told him. "Things like this tend to get out of hand very fast."

He watched me for a moment before his tense stance seemed to slump. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking this out on you. It isn't your fault," he said, shaking his head and leaning a little closer to me. "This wasn't how this was supposed to happen."

"Believe me, I know," I agreed. "And I'm sorry."

He nodded, a sad smile pulling at him lips. "I am sorry too but…" he trailed off. "I'm not sorry that I met you though."

Like many times before I couldn't help my smile. "I'm not either."

He shifted his stance, his hand coming up to grab mine off his arm, once again consuming mine. "Would it be okay, and you can say no, but would it be okay if I wrote you?"

The questioned took me by surprise but I recovered quickly and nodded. "Of course you can write me," I told him. "I-I don't know where we're going to be but when we settle I'll send something to Brandt."

His smile widened. "Thank you, Eleanor."

I shook my head. "This isn't just for you," I told him. "Compromising position of favoritism, remember?"

"You're not the only one in a compromising position," he said, squeezing my hand before walking away.

I sighed as I watched after him, a knot growing in my chest as I watched him disappear.

"You all right there, El?" Howard's voice asked.

I looked down to him, a little amused that he only came up to waist with him standing down in the mechanics pit. "I'm all right," I said before looking back to where Steve had disappeared. "He has no idea what he's getting into."

Howard shook his head, wiping his hands on a white shop rag. "They never know until they're shoulder deep in it."

"This isn't what Ab wanted for him."

He let out a sigh and pulled himself out of the pit. "How are you doing? With his death?"

I pulled in a deep breath. "You would think I would be used to it," I commented.

"Honestly, El, I would hate it if you were," Howard told me. "Everything's going to be okay."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Another false sense of security," I mused before he threw his arm around my shoulder.

"Listen to me, El, I know things seem bad at the moment but I want you to stay positive," he said, a certain calm in his voice. "For me?"

I shook my head. "Alright, Howard, I'll stay positive- but just for you," I said, poking him hard in the chest.

Little did I know it wouldn't be that easy.


	3. Captain America Part 3

"Fuck," I muttered as I reached inside my coat and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lighter, my back pressing harder against the tree I had picked as my sleeping spot for the night.

Phillips had sent me on a fact finding mission with the 107th,, me being a tag along till the front lines. While most of the soldiers had very strong, very negative opinions on women in war the Sergeant, a James Buchanan Barnes, had absolutely no issue with me being there and voiced so several times. It wasn't until he told me to call him Bucky did I realize who he was. Knowing that I had Steve's childhood friend watching my back made me feel a little better about the whole situation.

"Uh oh, what's got that pretty mouth of yours saying such ugly words?"

I looked over and found Bucky walking towards me, that almost sarcastic smirk back on his lips. "I think it's a beautiful word," I stated. "You can express so much with just the one word."

He gave a nod of agreement and crouched in front of me. "I suppose that's true."

"I mean, my brothers and I have had whole conversations with just that word," I told him.

He gave me a questioning look. "Fuck?" he asked.

I chuckled and nodded. "Fuck."

An understanding expression swept over his face. "Fuck," he agreed.

My smile widened. "So, did you come over here to chastise my swearing or was there something you wanted?"

"Well," he started, pulling a face, "you're all the way over here and we're all the way over there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the fire the other men were sitting at, "I wanna know why."

I rolled my eyes and slumped back against the tree. "You know why I'm over here," I stated.

He shook his head and let out a sigh. "Lizbeth-"

"Am I going to regret telling you my middle name?" I demanded.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Lizbeth, you are a soldier and you have just as much right to be here as any of them do."

"Buchanan, I am perfectly fine where I am," I told him.

"But I'm not perfectly fine with where you are," he stated. "I'm serious, Lizbeth, if you don't get your ass by that fire I'm going to move it over here."

I let out a snort. "Sure."

"I can order them to move it over here, and I can order them to sit by you."

I frowned. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Dammit," I grumbled.

A bright smile pulled at him lips. "Good. Come on, Beth," he said, getting to his feet and holding his hands out to me.

I let out a frustrated sigh but allowed him to pull me up.

He dragged me over to the fire, a large, gleeful smile stretched across his face. "What are we talkin' about fells?!" he exclaimed.

The circle of men looked up to us, their smiles dropping slightly when they saw who standing next to him.

"Uh, we're talkin' about our childhoods," one of them, Timothy Dugan if I remembered correctly, answered.

Bucky clapped his hands together. "Beautiful. Everybody has a family, right? Lizbeth, you have a family?" he asked, looking over to me.

I grimaced and shrugged lightly. "Everybody has a family," I repeated.

"Tell us about them," he instructed, nudging me towards the empty space.

I shot him a glare but took the spot.

"I'm sure she grew up in a nice house, with a white picket fence and always enough pocket change for whatever candy she wanted."

I turned the glare to the man I knew as Clark and felt the sudden urge to prove something to him. I suppose a bit of the truth wouldn't hurt anyone. "My parents died when me and Jimmy were 12, Victor was 14. We didn't have any extended family and we didn't want to end up in an orphanage so we took off."

That seemed to interest the men, surprise and awe now written across their faces.

"Where did you go?" Timothy questioned.

I shrugged. "Wherever we could," I answered. "We were just kids so we couldn't get any decent paying jobs so we stole what we had to, conned what we couldn't," I told them, a light smile pulling at my lips. "Jimmy used to have these big puppy dog eyes; he could get whatever he wanted. Victor could get his hands on anything we needed; didn't matter what."

"Let me guess, you were the mom?" John asked.

I let out a snort of laughter. "God no, Victor took care of us," I explained. "Me and Jimmy were the ones who were running around getting into fights. I can't tell you how many times he had to bail us out. It got worse when I started singing in speakeasies."

A holler erupted from the men, their faces now sporting wide smiles.

"And then he found out about the underground boxing."

They went silent once again.

Even Bucky seemed surprised. "Underground boxing?"

I nodded. "You would be surprised how much some men are willing to pay to beat on a girl," I told them. "I mean, they never got that far but just the prospect of it had them paying out of their nose."

Timothy held up his hands. "Wait, wait, you boxed?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm an Agent, Dugan, that question should be in present tense."

He was quiet for a moment before he busted out laughing. "You got me there!"

The others joined in with him, Bucky leaning over to bump my shoulder, a wide smile on his face.

* * *

Waking up to the sound of a twig snapping isn't something I'm unfamiliar with. The first week of mine and my brother's life on the run was spent in the forests of Canada's border. We were in the animals territory and it wasn't unreasonable for them to be curious or protective. A lot of nights had been spent warding off wolves with torches or outrunning bears. Of course, we had only been children and had no real way of protecting ourselves but now, with my years of war and surviving, a wolf pack or a bear was low on my threat list. Unfortunately, this forest was home to another enemy; an enemy with machine guns.

Pushing myself up I scanned the surrounding trees. They were about 50 yards out, well outside of sight, an advantage to both of us but ultimately a disadvantage to them. I pulled in a deep breath, glad that I had managed to get us to camp down wind, and took stock of the scents that weren't the men around me. There were 4, probably a lost patrol or soldiers who got separated from their unit. Either way, they were armed and headed towards us.

Turning to my side I reached out and pressed my hand over Bucky's mouth before shaking him with the other.

He woke with a start, his eyes going wide as his hands flew up to grab mine.

I pressed my finger to my lips and shook my head.

He watched me for a moment before nodding the best he could.

I pulled my hand away and leaned closer to him. "Get the men up and ready to move," I whispered to him. "There's a few unfriendlies and I'm not sure if there are more coming so we have to move quickly, okay?"

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue but seemed to think better of it and nodded again.

"If I'm not back in five minutes you move without me. Understood?"

His jaw clenched at that but he nodded again.

I flashed him an appreciative smile before I began untying my shoes.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice as quiet as mine had been as he sat up to watch me.

I rolled my eyes. "Do me a favor and grab my shit too?" I countered, looking back to him as I pulled off my first boot. "I'd hate to go barefoot for the whole war."

He smiled despite himself. "I knew you would make this interesting," he mused before reaching out to shake Timothy awake.

With my last boot off I headed off into the trees, the familiar excitement of a blitz attack building in my chest.

During the first war it was situations like this that allowed my family to install the most fear. After hearing some of the legends in German culture we decided to bring werewolves to life. It was an easy task and after hanging a few dismembered bodies from trees werewolves were very much real to the German soldiers. It also helped when we were captured, a few howls and snarls here and there and pretty soon they were letting us go if we promised not to eat them. It still brought Victor to hysterics whenever he talked about it.

Sneaking up on them was easier than I remembered it being, my bare feet making little to no sound on the forest floor as I stalked behind them. The man in the back was farther from the group than he should have been and it was incredibly easy to get my hand over his mouth and my claws into his back. I laid him face down and moved on to the next, a swift twist of the neck sending him limp and face down like his friend. The next two were walking shoulder to shoulder, an inconvenience but not a problem. I took a running start at them, my claws extended and eyes focused on the base of their necks. With the help of a fallen tree I launched myself into the air. The sickening yet satisfying sound of bone cutting through flesh was all that was heard as I landed on the men. I pulled back when they stopped struggling for breath and retracted my claws, their blood dripping off my knuckles. I scanned the trees once more before heading back towards camp, unable to shake the feeling that something else was coming.

* * *

Waking up to find myself a prisoner of war was not an abnormal situation for me. My hands were cuffed behind me with an uncomfortable tightness, making it particularly hard to push myself up into a sitting position. My head spun slightly as I did so, what little pain was left from the bash on the head they had given me slowly fading away. Fidgeting against the cuffs I looked around the cell they were holding me in. It was round and the walls were spaced bars, a rather clever design for maximum observation of ones prisoners. The ceiling appeared to be part of a catwalk that ran along the top of all the other cells, a grate pattern that looked rather good for gripping if you could get up that high.

"Beth!"

I looked over and found Bucky pressed against the bars of the cell next to mine. "Hey, Buchannan," I greeted, more than a little relieved that he was alive.

He put on his best smile. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. What about you?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry that pretty head of yours."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "So how come you're packed like sardines and I get this whole place to myself?" I asked.

He pulled a face at me. "You know I don't speak German."

I rolled my eyes and climbed to my feet, having hope that it had been for another reason other than my gender. "Have you tried to get the door open?"

"Beth, don't be stupid," he said, almost sounding like a plea.

"Who's being stupid?" I asked, leaning down to look at the lock. "The one trying to find a way out or the one content to wait?"

"They'll kill you!"

"They're going to kill me anyways, what difference does it make if it's now or then?" I asked, taking a step back and raising my foot.

The sound of my boot on the lock box rang through the room, echoing loudly.

I lowered my foot and frowned when I saw that all the damage I had done was just a dent. "Dammit," I muttered, gingerly setting my broken foot back to the ground.

Bucky was far from happy. "Beth, what the fuck do you-"

He was cut off when the door was thrown open and three soldiers filed into the room. They scanned the cells till they spotted me on my feet and walked over.

"Come," one of them said, pulling a set of keys from his coat.

I stepped back till I was pressed against the bars opposite the door. "Wohin gehen wir?(where are we going?)"

"Zu den guten Arzt (to the good doctor)," he answered, unlocking the door and swinging it open. "Come."

I narrowed my eyes at them, not liking the sound of this 'doctor' but also knowing that they weren't likely to open the door again. I pulled in a deep breath and pushed off the bars, stepping towards the opening.

"Beth, don't!" Bucky shouted, once again pressing himself against the bars. "Beth!"

"It's okay, Buchannan," I said, keeping my eyes on the guards. "Everything's going to be okay."

He shook his head. "No, Beth, don't!" he pleaded.

I paused just before stepping through the threshold, knowing that if I took another step forward I was pretty much forfeiting my life. If the rumors were true then I really didn't want to be in the hands of this doctor they were taking me to but I also needed to get as much information as I possibly could.

"Beth, please," Bucky pleaded. "Don't."

I flashed him a smile. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours," I told him before taking that final step forward.

That's when the bullet tore its way through my chest.

There's always a moment of uncertainty when you're shot, a moment that has you asking yourself 'have I been shot?' and most of the time the answer is yes. I looked down and found the quickly growing patch of blood just over my heart. I would die before it could heal itself. My knees gave out and I fell to my side, my breathing becoming strained.

"Beth, no!" Bucky shouted, crouching down and reaching through the bars towards me. "Beth!"

Two of the guards grabbed hold of my legs and began to drag me out of the room, my blood trailing after me.

The last thing I heard was Bucky screaming my name.

* * *

The first time I woke up I was in a room with several more bodies. The room smelled of death and something disturbingly medical. It was enough to make me gag. The small noise of me choking was enough to alert the guard who was watching the room, and, him thinking that I had just been unconscious, shot me in the head to put me out of my misery.

The second time I woke up the guard screamed like a small child, shouted something about the 'undead' and emptied a clip into me.

The third time I woke up there were three guards, and, just like their friend, had screamed and proceeded to kill me.

The fourth time I woke up I found myself strapped to what felt like a metal table. The room was now what appeared to be a surgery, several trays of sharp instruments and large equipment scattered around the room. When I looked over I found a short man, no taller than my shoulders, watching me.

"And how many times have you killed her?" he asked, a hand reaching up to press the hideous round glasses farther up his face.

"Four times, Heir Doctor," one guard answered.

"And yet there are no signs of even a wound," he mused, looking me over with an expression I didn't particularly like. "Fascinating."

A growl left my throat as he leaned closer. "Back off, pal, or I'll break something," I warned.

He laughed at that, looking down to me with a bright smile. "Oh, the fraulein has spirit!" he exclaimed. "I cannot wait to see what Heir Schmidt has to say about you!"

"Would you like us to go get him?" another guard questioned.

The man turned and waved his hands frantically. "No, no, I will do it myself," he told them before looking back to me. "Don't go anywhere," he said before bustling out of the room, the guards following him.

I clenched my jaw as I struggled against the restraints holding me, more than a little frustrated that I couldn't seem to break through them. I slumped against the table and took the new room in.

For as long as I could remember I had never been a big fan of doctors. My general dislike for them stemmed from the fact that they called what they do 'practicing medicine'. I wasn't sure about anybody else but if I was going to put my life into someone's hands I wanted them to do more than 'practice'. The dislike had doubled when field amputations became a popular thing. Now, I was sure, amputations would be a thing of my nightmares past.

It wasn't long before the door was opened once again and the pug man stepped in with a significantly taller one. He had nicely combed hair, a strong jaw and eyes that could probably melt someone if provoked. He carried himself like a leader and I instantly knew it was Johann Schmidt.

"So this is the fraulein who defies death," he said, a smile on his lips. "We are interesting, aren't we?"

I glared up at him. "You can take that interesting and shove it up your ass," I told him, a growl in the back of my throat.

He chuckled and looked back to the pug man. "You were right about her having spirit," he commented. "I wonder how long it will take you to break her."

I had heard those words many times in my life and all those times they had never been proven. I don't egg them on, I know it won't do much, scientists always seem to keep a level head when it comes to experiments, unlike torturers. With them it only takes a few carefully worded taunts to get them to lose control and make a mistake.

"Shall I time it?" the pug man asked.

Johann nodded with a contemplative expression. "I think you should," he answered. "Daily reports would not go amiss, either."

He nodded quickly. "You will get them."

"Then I shall leave you to it," Johann said. "Have fun, fraulein," he said before marching out of the room.

"Well," the pug man said, turning back to me. "I am Dr. Zola. Shall we get started?"

* * *

I was fond of torture. I liked its results and it was often fast. But there was a part of me that said vivisecting your victim was a whole new level of sick.

"Your healing ability is quite fascinating," the voice of Dr. Zola stated.

"Is it?" I asked, my voice gruff, still not fully healed from screaming.

"Yes," he stated, appearing above me, the white apron blood stained along with his gloves. "You were healing even as I was cutting you," he told me. "I have never seen anything like it before."

I cleared my throat. "I'm glad I could provide you with some entertainment," I said. "How much longer will I have your attention?"

"Oh," he hummed, "you see, our little experiments here have enabled me to move forward with a problem I had been stuck on for quite some time," he told me, a wide smile pulling at his face. "So while you are marvelous I must shift my attention to the other test subject."

My stomach clenched at the thought of what he was doing to the others. "What kind of problem?"

He chuckled lightly. "Just the matter of recreating a serum from a former colleague," he answered with a shrug. "Nothing for you to worry about."

I couldn't help the shock that ran through me. "The Super Soldier Serum?"

Impressed surprise swept over his face as he nodded. "I see that word travels fast," he mused. "Yes, the Super Solider Serum. My attempt up till now have been less than satisfactory but I have found that your blood held the solution."

"What?" I found myself asking.

He all but giggled at that, his smile widening. "I shall be crediting you when I publish."

I pulled in a deep breath and pushed down the growing knot of dread in my chest. "How considerate," I growled out, grimacing as I felt my internal organs start to knit themselves back together. "Am I allowed to pull myself together while I wait for you?"

He chortled. "No, fraulein, we are recording, remember?" he asked, gesturing to the camera that was suspended above me.

My face instantly dropped. "How could I forget?"

"I believe we are done for today but forgive me, I will be leaving the camera on," he said, that stupid smile back on his face. "Sleep well, fraulein," he told me.

I resisted the urge to growl as I watched him leave the room. "Little freak," I said, dropping my head back to the table and glaring up at the camera. "Yeah, I'm talking about you," I told it.

This was going to be an interesting mission.

* * *

Have you ever woken up and just known that it's that day. The day you finally take control of the shit situation you've found yourself in.

Today was that day.

I had woken up alone and fully healed, a state of being I had almost forgotten. The restraints on my wrists had loosened over the days but they still weren't big enough for me to slip my hand through; at least my unbroken hand. Pressing it flat against the table the bones snapped back into place, the pain ebbing quickly as I worked to get my other hand free. A short search of the room found me my clothes, a relief filled sigh leaving me when I found my latest letter to Steve was still in my coat pocket.

"Gotta mail that," I reminded myself as I pulled the clothes on.

I searched the rest of the room, grabbing several surgical knives before hopping up onto the table I had spent several days on. I pulled the side door of the camera open and grabbed the reel of film that had my torture on it. The last thing I needed was anyone else seeing this. Tucking the film next to the letter I walked over to the door and pressed my ear against the metal.

One guard.

I pulled in a deep breath and clenched my right fist, grimacing slightly at the slight pain of the bone spikes breaking through the skin between my knuckles. I opened the door and with speed that came with years of practice, I covered his mouth and buried the spikes in his spinal cord. I dragged him back into the room and let him fall to the floor, his blood pooling around him. I gave him a mock salute before slipping out the door.

The years playing hide and seek with Victor and Jimmy had played a major part in me being able to get pretty much anywhere I wanted as long as I stuck to the shadows. It seemed that this factory wasn't any different. Finding a door that led to the cells was easier than I had thought it would be and sneaking into the upper level was the same.

I walked in a crouch towards the Hydra soldier who was patrolling, his back to me as I thought of the quietest was of taking him out. My plans were ruined when someone jumped forward and took him out with what looked like a red, white and blue shield. I straightened up and looked the man over, more than a little surprised to find that the man was Steve.

"You're late," I accused.

Steve jumped as his attention went to me. He squinted at me for a moment before shock slapped him across the face. "Eleanor?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

I shook my head as I walked forward. "Technically I'm not so keep it to yourself," I told him, crouching down to take the keys from the guard. "Hi, fellas," I said, waving down at the soldiers who were in the cell below us.

Timothy shook his head as he smiled up at me. "You were shot," he stated. "They dragged you off."

I smiled brightly back at him. "Now you don't really think that would stop me from rescuing you damsels in distress, do ya?" I asked.

He let out a laugh.

"Alright, but who is he supposed to be?" Gabe asked, pointing to Steve.

"I'm Captain America," he answered, his tone a little prideful.

Falsworth looked at him with confusion. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

I let out a laugh. "Oh my God," I said, shaking my head as I dropped down to the door of the cell, my feet making little noise on the stone floor. I went to unlock it when a noise at the other end of the room caught my attention. I stepped away from the cell, my hand going to my boot as I pulled out of the knives I had taken. I watched the shadows for a moment before throwing the knife, the satisfying sound of steel cutting flesh and the thump of a body on the floor. "Steve, be a dear and make sure he's dead," I said, looking up to the super soldier before stepping back to the cell.

The man watched me for a moment before Steve cleared his throat and nodded. He launched himself off the top of the cell and jogged off towards the body.

"I take back what I said," Timothy stated, a smile on his face as he stepped up to the bars. "You can be anywhere you want to be."

I gave him a smile back. "It's cute that you think you had any say in it," I told him before swinging open the door. "Get the other cells open?" I asked, holding the keys up.

"You got it," he said, taking the keys and walking off.

I scanned the other cells, my panic rising when I didn't find Bucky amongst the others. "Where's Buchannan?" I demanded, looking to Gabe.

His smile fell. "They took him a few days after you," he answered, his tone hesitant. "He wouldn't stop asking where you were. I think they took him to the isolation ward."

That knot of dread grew tighter. "That's where I was."

"Where is it?" Steve asked, appearing at my side again, a determined but also desperate look in his eyes.

"The other side of the factory."

He nodded and looked to the other men. "The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give 'em hell," he told them. "I'll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find."

"Wait," Gabe said. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve let out a sigh with a nod. "Yeah. I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over 200 times," he answered.

I couldn't help the peel of laughter that left me at that. "Oh God, I really gotta see this show of yours," I told him before heading off back towards the way I had come.

"Now isn't really the time," he said, running after me.

"I think it's the perfect time," I told him. "What happened to the tights? You said they made you wear tights," I stated.

"Well," he said, "the tights aren't really combat ready, are they?"

I hummed in agreement. "True, but I'm sure the image would be better."

"It's really not the time for that."

I smiled and looked back to him, more than a little pleased to see the blush on his face. "Come on, Captain, get your war face on," I told him before going to open one of the doors.

"Wait, Eleanor," Steve said, pulling me back with a grip on my arm. "You should go with the others, get out of here while you can."

I raised an eyebrows at him. "If you think I'm going to let you run around this factory by yourself then you have another thing coming to you," I told him.

He shook his head. "Eleanor, I don't want you to get hurt," he stated.

I managed not to laugh at the thought of me being hurt. "How about this," I started, "if I get hurt you have my full permission to lecture me for as long as you want. I'll even let you fuss over me."

He seemed to think it over for a moment before nodding reluctantly. "Alright, but stay-"

"Right beside you?" I asked, giving him a pointed look.

He let out a sigh and nodded. "Fine," he allowed. "What weapons do you have?"

I smirked at him. "Worry about yourself, soldier," I told him before pulling open the door. I scanned the factory floor and nodded to the door I had come through a short while ago. "The labs are over there," I told him before glancing up at the ceiling. "Going by those alarms I would say we don't have long."

"Better get moving then," he said before running across the catwalk.

"You better be okay, Bucky," I muttered to myself, following after him.

* * *

The hallway was unguarded, understandable seeing the distraction the prisoners were making. We rounded the corner and came to a stop when we saw a man at the end of the hall, coat and briefcase in his hand.

"Hello, Doctor," I growled, a wide smile pulling at my lips at the prospect of tearing him apart.

Dr. Zola let out a startled yelp and took off down the hall, moving as fast as he probably could.

I smirked and took after him.

"Eleanor!" Steve shouted.

Right. Steve, Bucky, the alarms sounding an inevitable self-destruction.

I growled and stopped, tilting my head upward to sniff the air, attempting to pick up Bucky's scent. Shooting one more look in Dr. Zola's direction I backtracked and pointed to the door closest to Steve. "That one," I told him.

He looked between it and me before shouldering it open.

I followed behind him.

"Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven."

My heart stuttered when I spotted Bucky strapped to a table.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, rushing to his side. "Oh, my God," he said, looking him over before pulling the straps free from the table.

I watched them for a moment, making sure that Bucky was in one piece before glancing around the room and spotting the observation office. I rushed to it and found that most of the papers were riffled through but I collected what was left, folded it and shoved it into the inner pocket of my coat. I scanned the small room, looking for anything else that might be useful, pausing to take in the map that showed the location of the other factories before heading back into the main room to find Bucky on his feet.

Steve looked him over, worry and concern written all over his face. "I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller," Bucky stated, looking Steve over with unbelieving eyes.

I couldn't help but smile at the reunion. "I hate to break this up but we really should get going," I stated.

Bucky's head snapped over. "Lizbeth?" he asked.

I smiled brightly. "Hey, Buchanan," I sighed, relief washing through me. "You look just as pretty as the day I left you."

He gave me a sarcastic laugh. "Glad to see that you're not dead."

"Come on," Steve said, throwing Bucky's arm over his shoulder and heading towards the door.

I ran over and took his other arm, the anger from before building once again at how weak they had made him.

Steve stepped through the door, pulling away from Bucky to scan the hallway.

"What happened to you?" Bucky asked, looking up to Steve as he leaned against me.

"I joined the Army," Steve answered.

Bucky nodded as if that made all the sense in the world. "Did it hurt?" he questioned, allowed me and Steve to practically drag him down the hall.

Steve shrugged. "A little."

"Is this permanent?"

"So far."

I laughed quietly to myself and shook my head.

Bucky looked over to me with a questioning expression. "And what's so amusing, doll?" he asked, a smirk pulling at his lips.

I shot him a wink. "Don't worry that pretty head of yours," I told him.

He laughed. "So that's what it feels like."

"What?"

"Being the dame."

I rolled my eyes and went to say something sassy when the alarms stopped and the explosions started. "Oh for fucks sake," I cursed, helping Bucky up the stairs. "Don't they understand how inconvenient that is?!" I shouted over the sound.

"They're Nazis, I don't think they care!" Bucky shouted back.

I shrugged in agreement. "True," I mused before forcing us to a stop as an explosion went off rather close. "Steve!" I called.

He looked back to me, a look of slight desperation on his face.

"We need to get up higher and across the factory!" I told him. "This place isn't going to stay standing for much longer!"

He nodded. "Come on!" he yelled before taking off up the second flight of stairs.

"He has too much energy," I commented, moving to the stairs.

Bucky pulled away from me. "I'm okay, Beth," he told me, an easy smile on his lips as he gripped at the railing. "I can do this."

I watched him for a moment. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Don't worry that pretty head of yours."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I allowed before taking off after Steve, glancing back to make sure Bucky was behind me.

"Captain America!"

We all came to a stop and looked across the way to find Johann Schmidt and Dr. Zola standing by what looked like elevator doors.

"How exciting!" Johann called, handing a briefcase to pug man and stepping to the catwalk that was connected to ours. "I am a great fan of your films!"

I hesitated as Steve stepped up onto said catwalk, his jaw set with that determination of his. I went to move closer to him but stopped when I felt Bucky tense beside me. Glancing to him I found him watching Dr. Zola with a look keen to an animal caught in the road. I was between him and Bucky before I realized I had even moved, the instinct to protect him almost too much to override. Their looks reversed and now Dr. Zola looked like the tapped animal.

"So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive," Johann stated, looking Steve up and down.

With that Steve threw a punch, hitting Johann square in the jaw and sending him into the railing.

"You've got no idea," Steve told him, a growl in the back of his throat.

Johann straightened, his hand messaging his jaw. "Haven't I?" he asked before throwing a punch of his own.

Steve raised his shield in time to block the punch, Johann's fist leaving an indent in the metal. Steve's eyes widened and reached for his gun.

Johann was faster and punched again, hitting Steve and laying him flat on his back. He stepped forward to attack again when Steve planted his feet onto Johann's chest, sending him flying back.

Dr. Zola leaned forward and pulled a lever, the catwalk retreating and separating the two men from each other.

"No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see, I was his greatest success!" Johann yelled before reaching up and pulling off his face. Literally pulling off his face.

"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky asked, taking in the red skull Johann's head had become.

"That's disturbing," I stated.

Johann seemed unfazed by our comments. "You are deluded, Captain," he stated. "You pretend to be simple soldier," he continued, tossing what used to be his face into the explosions below, "but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind!" he shouted, stepping off the catwalk and rejoining pug man by the door. "Unlike you, I embrace it proudly! Without fear!" he stated, stepping through the elevator doors.

"Then how come you're running?!" Steve shouted after him.

Johann didn't answer, simply closing the doors and leaving us with the explosions.

Having decided that I wasn't going to die in this factory I quickly looked for an escape and pausing when I spotted the crate lifter that ran across the ceiling of the factory. "Come on!" I yelled before once against taking off up the stairs, this time the boys behind me. I ran across the cat walk till I came to the beam, grimacing slightly as I watched it shake with the explosions.

"You can't be serious," Bucky stated.

"As ripping your face off," I told him before throwing my leg over the railing. "How about this, if I fall you can find another way."

Steve jumped forward, once again stopping me with a grip on my arm. "Eleanor, don't-"

"I am the lightest of the three of us, if I can't make it across then there's no way either of you two could," I stated, my tone firm. "Now let me go."

He frowned as he leaned forward, his brow creasing. "Eleanor, I-"

"Tell me after," I told him before pulling my arm free. I held my arms out to my sides as I put one foot in front of the other, attempting to keep my center balance straight. The beam shook and creaked as I made my way across but thankfully I didn't fall and plunge to a fiery death. I threw myself over the railing, said a quick 'thank you' to whoever was listening and turned back to the boys. "Come on, Buchanan!" I called, waving him over.

He glanced back to Steve before climbing over the railing and making his unsteady way across. He got hallway when a close explosion went off and the beam broke free on one side, dipping it slightly. Bucky made a run for it, leaping a few feet short as the beam fell.

I reached forward and grabbed hold of him, pulling him up and over the railing to safety.

Bucky panted from the effort. "Gotta be a rope or something!" he called, looking to Steve with a desperate look.

"Just go!" Steve yelled, swatting his arm out. "Just get out of here!"

"No!" Bucky shouted with no hesitation. "Not without you!"

"Are you out of your goddamn mind, Steve?!" I shouted next. "Get your ass over here!"

Steve let out a defeated sigh. "Hell," he muttered before moving forward to bend back part of the broken railing.

"Oh shit," I muttered as I watched him. "Anchor your feet against the railing," I said, looking to Bucky.

"What?" he asked.

"Put your feet there and there," I instructed him, pointing to the poles at the gap in the railing, "and hold onto my arm. Both hands, locked at my wrist."

He didn't hesitate to do as I said, his hands wrapping around my wrist in a death grip as my own locked around one of his.

I leaned forward and looked back to Steve, finding him backed up as far as he could go. "Get ready," I warned him. "This might hurt."

Steve ran forward and leapt at the last possible moment, being engulfed in flames at one point.

Realizing that he was going to fall just as short as Bucky had I leaned forward and aimed for his outstretched hand. My fingers wrapped around his wrist as his fingers did the same to mine. His weight caught me off guard and I found myself on my knees, my face half an inch away from the grated floor. If it hadn't of been for Bucky pulling his whole body weight in the opposite direction I would have fallen with Steve. While I was happy about not dying I wasn't entirely pleased with the fact that the arm Steve was hanging from was now dislocated.

"Eleanor! Are you okay?!" he shouted up at me.

"Why are you so heavy?!" I yelled at him.

"Just let me go!"

"You have got to be kidding me!" I snapped before looking back to Bucky. "Do you think you could lean back?"

He nodded, his jaw clenched as he forced himself back, the effort pulling me further onto the railing.

I clenched my own jaw as the pain in my shoulder intensified and raised one leg, my boot catching the edge of the railing so I could help Bucky pull Steve up.

Once he was close enough Steve threw his still shield adored arm up, his fingers hooking in the grate holes to pull himself up.

I let him go as soon as his torso was cleared and cradled my arm to my chest.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, pushing himself up to hover over me, looking me over with anxious eyes.

I pulled in a deep breath. "I'm not going to catch you next time," I told him. "You're falling to your death, I don't care anymore."

He chuckled lightly. "Next time?" he asked.

"I have a feeling," I told him.

"Are they usually right?" he asked, an amused look in his eyes.

I nodded. "So far."

"Can you two flirt later? I really don't want to die," Bucky commented.

A blush swept over Steve's face as he cleared his throat.

I smirked and pushed myself up with my good arm and offered it to Bucky.

He gave me a slight sarcastic look before taking it. "Do we know the way out of here?" he asked.

"I'm sure we'll find one," I muttered.


	4. Captain America Part 4

The walk back to base camp was one of the more miserable moments of my life. The transmitter Howard gave to Steve had been shot and proven useless even when I cursed at it. The pain in my shoulder hadn't gone away due to the fact that it couldn't pop itself back into place. I was tired, irked, and utterly done with anything that wasn't sleep.

The welcome we received when noticed was loud and didn't add to my mood.

Steve, at the front of the very large group, came to a stop In front of Chester and saluted. "Some of these men need medical attention," he told him. "I'd like to surrender myself to disciplinary actions," he added.

Chester glanced at the men behind them, seeming to take stock. "That won't be necessary," he said, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Steve gave him the same smile. "Yes, sir."

Chester shook his head slightly before turning his attention to me. "Agent Howlett, I trust the mission was successful?" he asked.

I pursed my lips at him, trying to decide if he was trying to be funny or not. "Define successful," I said.

He considered it for a moment. "You have some form of information."

"Ah," I mused before reaching into my jacket and pulling out the papers I had stashed there and held them out to him. "Then yes, it was successful."

He smiled and tucked the papers into his own jacket.

"Hey, let's hear it for Captain America!" Bucky suddenly called.

The crowd around us erupted into cheers, praising the heroics of Steve.

I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips as Steve got the recognition he deserved. I looked over to smile at Bucky but stopped when I saw the pained expression on his face. "Buchannan?" I asked, stepping closer to him.

He gave me a sad smile. "He looks happy, huh?"

I glanced over to Steve. "I suppose so," I allowed. "Are you okay?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "I'm just fine, Beth."

"Are you-" I started but was quickly cut off.

"EL!"

I had just barely turned when the weight of Howard slammed into me. A yelp of shock and pain left me as his arms wrapped around my waist and I was suddenly being twirled in the air. "Howard!" I yelled, struggling against his hold. "Howard, put me down!"

He was laughing as he set me back down, his hands leaving my waist to cup my face. "You're alive!" he exclaimed.

I reached up with my good arm and shoved his face away. "Of course I'm alive," I said. "Was that ever a question?"

He nodded quickly. "Everyone else was convinced you were dead," he stated. "But I knew better. I kept telling them that you wouldn't go out quietly."

"We did kind of blow up a factory," I mused, shifting my shoulder away from him as he jostled me again. "If you keep touching me I'm going to break your hand," I told him, once again using my good hand to push him away.

He seemed surprised by that. "You're hurt?" he asked, his eyes dropping down to look me over.

"My shoulders dislocated," I explained.

His eyes widened. "How did that happen?"

I shook my head. "It's a long story," I dismissed. "Listen, there are a couple of weapons we liberated from Hydra that you need to look at."

His face brightened. "You brought me souvenirs?" he asked before bustling off to find the soldiers who held onto the guns.

I let out a tired sigh and looked back to Bucky, a little amused to find the questioning look on his face. "That's Howard Stark," I told him.

His eyebrows shot up as he looked over to watch Howard fuss over one of the weapons. "Really?"

"You get used to him," I assured him before gesturing to the camp. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

* * *

I had stayed with Bucky for as long as the nurses would let me, watching as they bandaged him up and taking stock of every cut, scrap, and needle mark that marred his skin. It pissed me off to no end that I didn't know what Dr. Zola had done to him, the extent to which his experimenting went with the ones who could die. If Bucky's reaction on the catwalk was any indication it hadn't been good. The thought of Bucky being the recipient of Dr. Zola's finished Super Soldier Serum plagued my mine but he was showing no systems past the usual prisoner of war expectations. Whatever Dr. Zola did to him I doubted Bucky would ever forget it. Once they had given him his last morphine shot they shooed me out so he could sleep, an aspect that I knew wouldn't be easy for him.

Pushing open the door to my tent I was pleased to find that none of my things had been disturbed, the cot still a mess of blankets. A wide smile pulled at my lips when I saw the towel and new bar of soap sitting on top of my trunk.

"Thank you, Chester," I said, snatching them up and headed out to the woman's shower.

* * *

Never in my life had I thought that a clean uniform would bring me such joy. The smell of the Government Issue laundry detergent almost comforting as I buttoned the green shirt up. Grabbing my discarded coat I searched through the pockets, not really sure on what I had deemed important enough to stash. Most of the contents were scraps of paper with coordinates on them, the locations of patrols that I had taken out on our trip to the front line. I reached into the pocket that held Steve's letter and found the reel of film that held the evidence of my time with Dr. Zola. Options ran through my head. Over exposing it, burning it, throwing it into my trunk and forgetting it even existed. They all sounded good but a voice in the back of my head told me that Howard could use it to further his study on me and my brothers.

I jerked out of my contemplations when a hesitant knock sounded at the door. "Who is it?"

"Steve. Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course," I answered before giving it much thought and scrambling to shove the film reel under the various blankets.

Steve stepped in, still dawned in his captain America costume, ruined leather jackets and the helmet with the white A on it. "Eleanor-"

I couldn't help the laugh that shot up my throat, my hands shooting up to cover my mouth once it had escaped. "I'm sorry," I apologized, shaking my head. "Come here."

His eyebrows knitted together but he stepped forward all the same.

I reached up once he was close enough and undid the buckle under his chin. "Where did you even get this?" I asked, pulling it off and snorting at the helmet hair underneath.

A light blush swept across his face as his hand came up to tame his hair. "I stole it from one of the dancers," he answered.

"No wonder," I mused, knocking my fingers against the side. "You do know that this wouldn't have stopped a bullet, right?"

"I do now," he stated with a chuckle.

"And look at this poor thing," I said, tossing the helmet to the bed and turning my attention to the leather jacket. "What did you do to it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I infiltrated a Hydra factory."

I shook my head as I unzipped it to find him only wearing the top from the Captain America costume. "You were severally underprepared for the whole situation," I told him. "You're lucky you didn't get shot."

"That's what the shield was for," he stated, sounding a little defensive.

"Oh, I love the shield," I assured him, flashing a bright smile. "You're like a knight in shining armor."

His blush darkened at the compliment. "I don't know about that," he dismissed.

"The way you swooped in and saved all those damsels in distress. They should write songs about you."

He laughed lightly. "If I had been a few minutes later they would be writing songs about you," he stated. "You didn't need my help."

"Maybe not but it's nice to have it. You did really well, by the way," I praised, my smile widening. "It felt good, huh? Doing what you were meant to do?"

He let out a long breath and nodded. "You know, for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted, and then I was wearing tights. You were right."

"I wish I wasn't," I mused. "You're too good of a person to be used like that."

"Brandt's going to love this. Bond sales are going to triple when this reaches the press," he said, letting out a sigh as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Steve, you just rescued 400 men, trust me, Phillip's isn't going to let Brandt anywhere near you," I stated, shaking my head. "Your performing days are over."

He smiled brightly at that, the first genuine smile I had seen since he came out of the machine.

"It's kind of sad though. I'll never get to see those tights," I teased.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "I'm glad," he stated. "It was horrible enough wearing them in front of strangers."

"It couldn't have been that bad," I denied.

"I had to punch a guy in a Hitler costume."

I grimaced. "Okay, that's a little bad," I allowed. "But the kids must have loved it."

He nodded. "They would ask for my autograph," he explained with a weak chuckle. "That always surprised me. I hadn't done anything but these kids would look at me like I was a hero."

"Well," I sighed, dropping down to sit on the edge of the cot, my hand patting the empty space next to me in an invitation, "kids are wonderful judges of character," I told him, watching as he took the offered spot. "I mean, I've seen kids take one look at a person and run in the other direction or walk over to talk to them. I can't tell you how many times a kid has come up to Jimmy asking for help but won't go anywhere near Victor."

He shot me a concerned look.

"He doesn't like kids," I elaborated, "and they can sense that. I think the kids knew you were a hero but you were in the wrong place."

"I'm not a hero."

"You are after today," I stated. "You don't save 400 men and not get hero status."

"Then I guess you're a hero too," he said, his tone rather matter of fact.

My eyebrows shot up. "What did I do?"

That smile spread across his face again. "Bucky told me," he admitted. "He said you were the only reason they made it to the front line."

I waved him off. "I took care of a few patrols, that's hardly hero status."

He watched me for a moment, seeming to hold a debate in his head. "Buck also told me that you watched his back the whole way," he said. "That he wouldn't be alive if you hadn't been there."

I shook my head and dropped my eyes to my lap. "I don't let people die if I can help it," I stated before chuckled. "Besides, he's grown on me. I can see why he's your best friend."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, he's something else," he agreed. "You've grown on him too, you know. He asked me if you were alright."

"I'm fine," I said instantly, wincing slightly when he gave me an accusing look. "My shoulders sore," I lied, "besides that I'm fine."

He watched me for a moment before his eyes dropped down to look at my shoulder. "He said that they shot you."

"It was clean through," I explained, reaching up to rub at where it had been, throwing in a grimace of pain for effect. "They patched me up when they got me to the lab."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Why would they do that?"

I shrugged. "I suppose I was worth more alive than dead."

"I'm glad, as twisted as that sounds," he said, looking over to with that lopsided grin of his. "I had started to get worried when I never got a reply."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, the figurative light bulb going off. "I have something for you," I told him, snatching up my coat again and pulling the letter free. "I forgot to mail it before we left but it was at the top of my do to list."

He took the envelope with a laugh. "The top, huh?"

I nodded. "Of course. That's a letter to Captain America, after all. Very important."

"I'll make sure he gets it," he said, his tone teasing but it didn't reach his eyes.

I watched him for a moment before leaning over and bumping his shoulder. "Are you okay?" I asked.

He went to answer but seemed to think better and paused. "I…..I don't know," he answered, letting his head fall. "It's all I've wanted but I'm…." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"You're what?" I pressed, leaning into his shoulder, a little surprised by how comforting the physical contact was.

He sighed and looked over at me. "I'm scared," he admitted, his voice soft.

"That's a good thing," I assured him. "Being scared keeps you alive. I've been scared my whole life and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't been."

He looked up to me with almost hopeful eyes. "Really?"

"Ask anyone who has been here long enough and they'll tell you the same," I told him. "Being scared keeps you alive."

"I just want to make a difference," he said, leaning a little closer to me. "To make all this," he said, gesturing to himself, "worth it."

I let out a startled laugh. "Steve, 400 people are alive because of you," I reminded him.

"You would have gotten them out."

"True, but not all of them would have made it out," I admitted. "Most of my missions don't include rescuing people."

He chuckled lightly and nodded. "I suppose spies don't go on a lot of rescue missions, huh?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "No, uh, today was my first."

"Well you did pretty swell," he complimented.

"Thank you," I said, ducking my head to hide the blush that had risen at the compliment.

He was quiet for a moment before his hand reached out and covered mine, an immediate warmth seeping into me. "I missed you," he admitted, his voice soft.

I didn't bother to hide the smile his admission brought. "I missed you too," I stated, looking back up to him to find a blush of his own on his face. "The letters helped but I missed your voice."

A smile twitched at his lips. "My voice?"

I flipped my hand over and threaded our fingers together. "You have a nice voice."

"Do I?" he asked, suddenly sounding nervous.

I nodded and leaned closer to him, my head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. "You're warm too," I noted.

"That's good, right?" he asked, shifting down slightly, his breath brushed across my forehead.

I hummed in agreement. "Very good," I assured him. "Just what the doctor ordered for a winter in Germany. Don't be surprised if I suddenly hug you."

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Copacetic."

I let out a snort of laughter. "So I have permission to hug you whenever I want?"

He cleared his throat. "I don't see why not."

"Alright then," I said before turning further into him. Pulling my hand free from his I brought it up to wrap around his neck while I slipped my other around his back. I pressed my face into his neck and pulled in a deep breath, his scent filling my lings.

Steve had gone stiff as soon as my arms were around him, his hands hovering uselessly in the air. "Uh, Eleanor..." he trailed off, sounding more than a little lost.

"One arm around my waist and one over my shoulder," I instructed him. "Then you squeeze as tight as you need to."

A nervous chuckle left him as he lowered his arms cautiously, his fingers skimming down my back and around my waist. "I might crush ya if I did that."

"I doubt you would hurt me," I stated, neglecting to tell him that it wasn't physically possible for him to do so.

"I'd never want to," he mused, his hold tightening as he lowered his head to rest his chin on my shoulder. "You know I've, uh, I've never actually done this before."

"Bullshit," I found myself saying. "You've never hugged someone before?"

"My mother and Bucky don't count," he amended. "Dames don't seem to like hugging fellas smaller than them."

"Then they're idiots."

"Why?"

"If they don't want to take the extra second to see the man you are then it's their damn loss," I stated, curling my fingers into his coat. "Though I suppose it means I get you all to myself," I mused, surprised by how much I liked the notion.

He was quiet for a moment. "You would want that?" he questioned.

I let out a sigh and shook my head the best I could. "We need to work on that self-esteem of yours, solider," I told him. "Why wouldn't I want to?"

He shrugged, the movement jostling me slightly. "Most dames don't-"

"I think we can both agree that I'm not most dames," I cut in.

He laughed softly and nodded. "True. Most dames couldn't kick a Nazi's teeth in," he stated. "That was impressive, by the way," he added.

I smiled at the compliment. "Really?" I asked. "Most fellas don't like that sort of thing."

"I think we can both agree that I'm not most fellas."

"True," I allowed. "I don't think I would find myself stuck on just any fella."

"Stuck on, huh?" he questioned, pulling back to raise an eyebrow at me. "Compromising position of favoritism and stuck on me? When did I ever get so lucky?"

I pulled in another deep breath, my wide smile returning. "The moment you asked me if I was okay."

His smile widened once again. "I guess that makes you my good luck charm," he said, dipping his head forward.

I couldn't help but notice the few inches that now separated us. "I'm alright with that," I mused, leaning closer to him, erasing one of the inches. "Just as long as you get to be my soldier."

"As long as you'll have me," he said, his voice impossibly soft as he leaned even closer, his eyes dropping down to glance at my lips.

A shuddered breath left me as I looked down to do the same, my mind clouding when I found them parted. Unable to stop myself at this point I leaned forward, intent on closing the space between us.

"I'm not interrupting am I?"

Steve jerked away from me at the sound of Chester's voice, the man having appeared in the doorway. "No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Nothing, sir."

I groaned and glared over at the intruder, hoping that I burned a hole in his head. "What do you want, Chester?" I asked, a snap in my voice.

He gave me a smirk. "I wanted to discuss the information you found," he answered, holding up the papers I had given him not too long ago.

My eyebrows shot up. "And this couldn't wait, why?" I demanded.

He shrugged and gave me an innocent smile. "I wanted your memory fresh," he stated.

A growl boiled up in my throat along with the anger. I opened my mouth to reprimand him when he turned his attention to Steve.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Captain?" he asked.

Steve jumped a little at that and nodded quickly. "Yes, sir," he said before looking over to me. "I'll see you later, Eleanor," he stated before making a quick retreat.

Chester chuckled with a smile as he stepped further into the tent. "You two looked close and comfy," he mused.

"Asshole," I snarled. "You did that on purpose."

He lost his smile. "You're right, I did," he answered, his voice blunt. "Because this is war, Eleanor, not your romance novel."

I scoffed and waved him off. "Oh please, I know you met your wife during the last war," I stated.

"That had absolutely nothing to do with the war," he defended.

"You wouldn't have met her if it hadn't of been for the war," I argued.

"That's not true."

"She's French!"

He opened and closed his mouth several times before a frustrated sigh left him. "Alright, fine, but that doesn't mean you can do the same thing."

I rolled my eyes and dropped back onto my cot. "There's a certain kind of hatred for people like you," I stated, "and a reserved place in hell too, if I'm correct."

He nodded with an accepting expression. "Yeah, probably," he allowed before holding up the papers. "Who is this Dr. Zola?"

I let out a defeated sigh. "By the looks of it he's Schmidt's right hand freak," I answered, a sigh leaving me as I stretched myself out. "Do you know what a vivisection feels like?"

His eyebrows shot up at that. "No, I can't say that I do."

"It feels like…." I trailed off before shaking my head. "There isn't a comparison but it isn't pleasant," I stated, fishing under the blankets to pull out the film reel. "Don't watch this unless you wanna lose your lunch," I told him.

Disgust crossed his face as he waved my hand away. "I'll let you hold onto that."

I chuckled and tossed it into my open trunk. "What else did you want to talk about?"

He pulled in a deep breath and sighed heavily. "We're flying out in the morning," he told me. "Back to London."

"Thank God," I grumbled. "I've had enough Nazis for a while."

"I thought you wanted back onto the front lines?" he questioned.

I gave him an unamused look. "Chester, I've just spent the past week being some freak's guanine pig, I think I deserve a little vacation."

He watched me for a moment before nodding. "I'm sure that won't be a problem."

* * *

"The fifth one was here in Poland, right near the Baltic," Steve stated, marking the spot on the map we were all hovering over. "And the sixth one was…."trailed off, scanning the map.

I smiled and reached forward. "30, 40 miles west of the Maginot Line," I answered, pointing to the spot.

Steve glanced over at me, a small smirk on his lips as he marked the spot.

The officer next to us nodded and took the map off to show the others.

Steve looked over to Chester and shrugged. "I just got a quick look."

"Nobody's perfect," I mused, walking over to where they were hanging the map, Steve following behind me.

"These are the weapons factories we know about," Steve continued. "Sergeant Barnes said that Hydra shipped all the parts to another facility that isn't on this map."

Chester nodded, looking the map over. "Eleanor, call MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base."

I nodded. "Alright, but what are we going to do?" I questioned, knowing he wasn't just going to sit still with this information.

"We are going to set a fire under Johann Schmidt's ass," he answered before a curly haired blonde handed him a stack of papers. "What do you say, Rogers? It's your map. You think you can wipe Hydra off it."

Steve glanced back the map as everyone else seemed to be pouring over. "Yes, sir. I'll need a team," he stated with a matter of a fact tone.

"We're already putting together the best men," Chester told him, shooting me a pointed look.

"With all due respect, sir, so am I," Steve told him, straightening slightly. "And Agent Howlett is one of them."

My eyebrows shot up at that. "Really?"

Steve nodded and scratched the back of his head. "Yes, I mean, that is, if you want to," he said. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

I nodded quickly. "No, I want to," I told him.

Chester looked between us, an unamused look on his face. "You two are making me sick," he stated. "She was going with you anyways. She was one of our picks."

My head snapped over to look to him. "Really?" I asked again.

He let out a tired sigh and walked away.

I couldn't help but smile as I looked back to Steve. "You really want me to go with you?"

He cleared his throat and nodded. "You're one of the reasons this is happening and I think you deserve to see it through."

A surprised chuckle left me at that. "Why thank you, Captain," I said. "You know, you seem to be the only person who attempts to give me credit for anything. Why is that?"

He seemed just as surprised as I had been. "Because it's fair," he answered. "Plus, I can't go anywhere without my lucky charm, can I?"

I shook my head. "You're one of a kind, soldier, one of a kind," I told him, reaching up to pat his cheek before walking past to him to where Howard's lab was set up.

"And there's the beautiful El!" Howard cheered when he saw me, his arms thrown open.

I chuckled at that and allowed a hug. "Guess what?" I asked.

"What?" he asked back, leaning away just far enough to look at me.

"I'm going with Steve to take out the Hydra factories."

His eyebrows shot up at that. "Really? They're letting you go?"

"Chester was going to send me anyways but Steve asked for me first."

A knowing smirk pulled at Howard's face as he rocked us back and forth. "So that's what this is about."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not just that," I denied. "You know me better."

"Well it certainly doesn't hurt," he added.

I nodded. "No, I suppose it doesn't," I allowed before pulling away from him and smacking his shoulder. "Get your head out of the gutter," I told him. "You're going to make me sick."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "You wanna help me with some designs?" he asked, gesturing to the table behind him.

"What are you designing?" I asked, dropping my head to the side as I walked over. My eyebrows pulled together when I saw the blueprints. "Is that a shield?"

* * *

The next few days were spent in the lab making Howard's creations come to life, a feat that sounded easier in theory than practice.

Like the many nights before I found myself woken by Howard, my face pressed against the desk with a puddle of drool adoring it. "What?" I asked, shooing his hand away from my shoulder.

"The fellas all headed out to the bar five minutes ago," he explained.

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What does that have to do with me?" I demanded, wiping my chin.

"You should join them," he stated.

"Now why would I want to do a thing like that?"

"Because I want you to ask him to come in tomorrow to try out some of the equipment," he answered before holding up a wrapped box. "Plus I bought you something pretty."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Whose definition of pretty are we going by?" I asked, taking the box from him and setting it on the table.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, it's nothing you wouldn't normally wear."

I rolled my eyes. "I normally don't wear things described as pretty," I noted, yanking the bow undone and lifting the lid, peeking in to find tissue paper blocking my view.

"El, it's not the description of the clothes that matter," Howard stated, finality to his voice. "It's the woman that wears them."

I looked up at him. "Really, Howard?" I demanded. "I thought we were passed you using pick-up lines on me?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not a pick-up line," he denied. "El, there are a lot of pretty woman who wear a lot of pretty clothes but there are only a few women in the world who epitomize the word beautiful," he explained, an easy smile on his lips.

"Do you even know what that word means?"

He gave me a look. "To serve as the typical or ideal example of," he rambled off.

I nodded slowly. "Right out of the dictionary," I stated.

"You're damn right," he said with a nod of his own. "And that's you."

"Blah, blah, blah," I groaned before tossing the lid aside and digging into the paper. I was about to complain about the fact that it was dress when I held it up, my eyes taking in the simple yet elegant design of the dark blue fabric.

"Well," he said, nudging my shoulder. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," I stated, pulling it the rest of the way out of the box. "Where did you get it?"

He waved the question off. "Don't worry about it," he said, his smile splitting his face. "Do you like it?"

I nodded quickly and slipped off the stool to hold the dress against me. "I love it," I told him.

"Good!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Go get changed, put your face on and do something with your hair," he instructed, shooing me away.

I gave him a stink face as I walked off.

* * *

The four block walk to the bar wasn't much but my feet seemed to think that we had trekked up Mt. Everest in the damn heels Howard had gotten me to match the dress.

"Torturous bastard," I muttered as I walked up to the familiar door. I forced a confident smile on my face as I pulled the door open and stepped in, ready for whatever fresh hell God had planned for me.

I had never heard a room go silent so quickly. Conversations stopped, heads turned, and even the piano went silent.

I pulled in a deep breath, scanned the room and made my way towards the back room, hoping that's where Steve and Bucky were.

Their heads appeared around the entry way, curious looks on their faces before spotting me. Curious quickly morphed into shock.

I couldn't help the smile that twitched at my lips as I glanced around the room again, my eyes landing on the table to my left where Steve's men were sitting. "Evening, fellas," I greeted.

Timothy tipped his bowler hat at me. "Ma'am."

I held down my laughter as I stepped through the archway.

Bucky let out a low whistle as he looked me over. "Aren't you a regular Queen of Sheba?" he asked a smirk on his lips.

I rolled my eyes and glanced at Steve, pleasantly surprised to still find the dumbstruck expression on his face. "And you're a regular Rag-a-Muffin," I stated, making my tone teasing.

Bucky gave me a sarcastic smile.

"Scotch on the rocks, right, Eleanor?"

I looked around Steve and smiled at the young woman standing behind the back bar. "Yes, Sarah, thank you," I told her.

She smiled and set to making the drink.

"I take it you're a regular?" Bucky asked.

I rolled my eyes and stepped up to the counter, a relief filled sigh leaving me when I slid onto one of the stools. "Someone has to make sure Howard doesn't run off with one of the waitresses," I mused. "Or die drowning in his own vomit."

Bucky's face scrunched up in disgust. "That was a beautiful image, doll, thank you."

I smiled brightly at him. "You're very welcome."

"Here you go," Sarah said, setting the glass in front of me.

"Thank you, sweetheart," I told her, grabbing the glass and taking a generous gulp. "Speaking of a beautiful image, does the dress really look that bad, Steve?" I asked, spinning around to look at the man who was still watching me with a shocked expression.

"What?" he asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"She's asking you what you think of her new dress," Bucky answered. "You're blank staring isn't really helping her confidence."

Steve looked between Bucky and me several times, his eyes widening. "What? No, no, Eleanor," he said, looking down at me with a nervous smile. "You look beautiful- more than beautiful. I'm sorry I stared it's just you're-wow," he sighed, his eyes dropping down to look me over again.

I could feel the blush burning my cheeks as I watched the smile twist on his lips and the dazed look in his eyes. "Let's hope none of the Hydra agents are dames," I mused. "You're going to get yourself shot staring at a skirt."

He gave a shake of his head. "No, just your skirt," he stated before realizing what he had said. "Ah geez, Eleanor, I'm sorry."

I laughed and waved him off. "You're just fine, soldier," I told him, combating the urge to giggle. "Someone's gotta watch my back."

Bucky choked on his drink while Steve turned a beautiful shade of pink.

I allowed myself a proud smile as I pulled a cigarette out of my purse, a lighter soon following. With a quick inhale smoke was soon curling towards the ceiling. "Is it safe to say that they agreed to go with us?" I asked, leaning back slightly to glance at the table they were sitting at.

"Yeah, they're all idiots," Bucky stated, having recovered from the shock first.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Oh please, don't act like you're not going."

He watched me for a moment before an easy smile pulled at his lips. "Well, I couldn't let you two have all the fun, could I?" he asked, sipping at his drink.

"I hope you know that means you get to catch him the next time he takes a flying leap," I told him, pulling in a drag and letting it out with a smirk. "He's heavier than he looks."

Steve let out a sigh, his head dropping down. "Eleanor, I'm sorry about your shoulder, I'm sorry-"

"I'm teasing, Steve," I told him, turning to smile up at him. "I would have thought that having a friend like Bucky you would be able to tell."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bucky demanded.

"It means that you're a sarcastic asshole," I stated.

He gasped dramatically and looked to Steve. "Did you hear what she called me?" he asked.

Steve couldn't seem to help the smile that pulled at his lips. "I heard," he answered, stepping forward to take the seat between me and Bucky. "And she's not wrong."

Bucky's jaw dropped. "I thought you were on my side?"

He shook his head. "I'll always side with the pretty dame, especially if it's Eleanor," he stated, shooting a small smile at me. "She was one of my drill sergeants."

I let out an unlady like snort. "I was not a drill sergeant," I denied.

He looked over to me with a raised eyebrow. "On really? Then what were you?" he asked. "Cause I remember a lot of you telling us fellas what to do."

I shook my head. "Most of that was directed towards Hodge," I told him, taking another drag and blowing it away from him before remembering that he didn't have asthma anymore.

"Hodge?" Bucky questioned.

Steve nodded with a laugh. "Gilmore Hodge. She broke his nose the first day of training."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up. "And why did we break his nose?" he asked.

"He made a lot of sexist comments but ultimately it was him calling me sweetheart that pushed me over the edge," I answered, swallowing down the rest of my drink and gesturing for Sarah to get me another one.

"Is that really all it takes?"

I nodded. "That and he made an assumption that he was going to dance with me."

"You don't like dancing?"

I chuckled humorlessly. "I love dancing, just never with him."

Bucky straightened up and put on a pleasant smile. "Well how about with me?" he asked.

I shook my head before giving Sarah a thankful smile. "Sorry, Buchanan but my dance card is full," I told him.

He let out a scoff. "By who?"

I pursed my lips and looked over to Steve. "The right partner," I answered.

Steve's eyes snapped up to meet mine, a surprised look on his face.

I gave him an easy smile, silently praying that I hadn't just put a noose around our friendships neck.

To my utter relief he returned the smile, straightening up slightly. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a voice behind us.

"A-Agent Howlett?"

I turned and found a scared looking private standing in the entryway. "Depends on whose asking," I told him, pulling in a drag.

"Mr. Stark asked me to find you in regards to Project Alpha," he answered.

I choked, smoke spewing out of me like a demented dragon. "Jesus," I coughed. "Doesn't he understand the word 'classified'?"

The private swallowed hard and held his hands up in surrender. "I-I'm sorry, Ma'am, he didn't tell me," he stuttered out.

I growled lightly and rolled my eyes. "It's fine, don't flip your wig," I told him before turning back to down the rest of my drink and put my cigarette out. "Looks like I'll see you tomorrow, fellas," I said, sliding off my stool. "Oh, speaking of Howard, Steve," I said, pivoting back to him.

He gave me a questioning look.

"He has a few things he would like you try out tomorrow," I told him. "Do you think you could come in at 0800?"

He nodded quickly, the smile still on his lips. "Yes, Ma'am."

I rolled my eyes again. "I'll see you then," I told him. "Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight, Eleanor," they chorused.

I flashed them a smile before turning back to the private. "After you," I said, gesturing for him to go first.

He gave a tense smile before practically speed walking out of the bar.

"So, what's gotcha shaky?" I asked once we stepped outside.

He jumped slightly and cleared his throat. "I just…I've heard stories," he answered.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Stories from Stark?" I guessed.

"Stories from Stark," he confirmed.

I shook my head. "Don't listen to him, he tells lies," I stated.

"Wrong. I only give false senses of security."

I looked over my shoulder and found Howard leaning against the wall. He was dressed in one of his suits, his hair gelled to perfection. I let out a sigh as I crossed my arms. "Project Alpha, huh?" I accused.

He held his hands up in false innocence. "I'm sorry, I got bored," he stated before reaching into his pocket for his wallet and pulling out a bill. "Thanks, pal," he said, handing it to the private.

He nodded and headed off, walking a little faster than one normally would have.

"First you push me out the door and now you drag me out, what do you want from me?" I asked, annoyingly a little amused by the whole thing.

"Dinner with a beautiful woman," he answered with a smirk. "At first I was going to ask you if you knew where any beautiful women are but then I remembered that I managed to pull off the impossible," he stated, gesturing to me.

I flipped him off before walking over, a smile pulling at my lips. "And just where are you taking me?" I asked.

"There's this little fondue place down the street, I thought we could try it out," he said, pushing off the wall and looping his arm through mine. "Quiet little place, should give us enough privacy for you to tell me how it went."

I groaned but allowed him to lead me down the street. "Fine, but I better get something chocolate for desert," I told him.

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Only the best for El."


	5. Captain America Part 5

There are some mornings where you wake up, shower, get dressed, make yourself breakfast and then get ready for the day. It drones on till you go to bed and start the whole cycle over again.

Then there are some mornings where Howard Stark blows himself up.

He had been poking at the glowing blue bullets Steve had grabbed from the Hydra factory, looking in on it through the safety glass of the containment box he had put it in. He had been excited at first until he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Emission signature is unusual," he noted as he pulled one of the bullets from the clip. "Alpha and beta ray neutral…though I doubt Rogers picked up on that," he muttered.

I rolled my eyes from my spot by the work bench. "I doubt anyone but you picked that up," I told him, getting some of the other scientists to chuckle.

Howard shot me a playful glare before looking back. "Seems harmless enough," he noted. "Hard to see what all the fuss is about," he said before touching it with the laser cutter.

That's when Howard managed to blow himself up. Glass flew through the air along with Howard and another scientist.  
I had managed to turn my back, shielding myself from any damage.

"Write that down," Howard said as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hair disheveled and a cut on his cheek marring his otherwise perfect face.

I shook my head as I walked over to him, glass crunching under my feet. "And what did we learn today?" I asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Don't play with glowing blue things?" he asked, wincing slightly as he brushed himself off.

I sighed and nodded. "Sure, let's go with that," I allowed before glancing back at the once was containment box. "What the hell is it?"

He shook his head. "I have no clue," he answered. "Some sort of energy."

"So, not as harmless as you thought?"

He let out a laugh. "Obviously not."

I rolled my eyes and looked to the clock. "Do you want me to go see if Steve is here yet?" I asked.

He nodded but let out a groan afterwards, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

I chuckled at him before heading out of the lab, hoping that if didn't look like I had just gone through an explosion. I walked the hallways, my eyes scanning the rooms for any sign of the blond hair. I reached the far wall and turned to head to Phillips' office when my eye caught something I didn't expect to see.

Steve stood facing one of the bookcases, the blond assistant pressed between him and it, her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands rested on her upper arms, his head tilted downwards to keep the connection between their lips.

Something in me snapped.

"Rogers!" I all but snarled, my voice just as harsh as the drill sergeants had been.

The two jumped apart, Steve's eyes wide as his hand came up to wipe his mouth off.

"Howard's ready for you whenever you're done here," I told him, spinning on my heel and marching off back towards the lab.

He rushed after me, his footsteps frantic. "Eleanor, wait!" he called, panic in his tone.

I kept my eyes forward and my head high. "You know, I always thought that finding the right partner would be harder than that. I suppose I was wrong," I bit out.

"Eleanor, that's not what you thought it was," he told me.

I shook my head. "I'm not thinking a damn thing, Rogers, not a damn thing," I stated, a bitter tone bleeding through the sarcasm. "Although I should praise you on adapting to soldier life so quickly, you're now the person you've always wanted to be."

He came to a stop, seeming to think for a moment before opening is mouth to stick his foot in it. "Well, what about you and Stark?" he demanded. "How do I know you two haven't been...fondue-ing?"

I stopped and turned slowly to look at him.

He was fidgeting like a little kid, his eyes wide and panic still written all over his face.

Did he really think that I had a thing with Howard? Sure, Howard always flirted with me but he was my best friend, there was no way there could be anything but sibling affection between us. I shifted my weight and crossed my arms, my frown pulling deeper. "What do you mean by fondue-ing?" I questioned.

"Howard made a comment about how you and he…" he trailed off to clear his throat, "f-fondue."

My eyebrows pulled together as I struggled to make the connection. I finally let out a sigh as I shook my head. "I see the serum didn't affect your IQ," I stated, turning back around and continuing to Howard's lab.

"Where's Steve?" Howard asked upon my entry.

"Counting his brain cells," I snarled, marching past him and towards the supply closet in the back. "You should go help him."

Howard's eyebrows shot up at that, surprised slapping him across the face. "I, uh, I will go do that," he said, nodding to himself as he rushed out of the lab.

After exactly ten minutes of calm breathing I stepped back out into the lab, determined to be as pulled together as I could be. I paused when I spotted Steve and Howard standing by the table that held the shield prototypes, the round Vibranium one attached to his arm. I held my head higher and stepped down towards them.

"There she is," Howard said when he spotted me, an almost pleading smile on his face.

I clenched my jaw and pulled in another deep breath.

Steve turned to face me, a bright smile on his face as he stood up straighter. "What do you think?" he asked.

I couldn't help but watch him as I tried to decide whether or not he was actually serious. When his expression didn't change I found my answer. The gun was in my hand before it registered but I was fully aware of pulling the trigger three or four times.

Thankfully for Steve he raised the shield in time to block the bullets.

I lowered the gun and pulled in another calming breath, attempting to convince myself that it was better that the bullets didn't actually hit him.

He peeked around the edge of the shield, his eyebrows furrowed and the most heart breaking puppy dog look on his face.

The expression, however, didn't ebb the anger quickly building in my chest. "At least you won't get shot," I said before tossing the gun back onto the table before exiting the lab.

* * *

"El, are you really going to ignore him till you die?" Howard asked, appearing next to me as I looked over the map of our soon to be assault on Schmidt's factories.

I hummed. "I tend to ignore those who act like assholes," I stated, keeping my eyes on the map.

He let out a laugh. "If that was true then I wouldn't be your best friend," he told me, leaning against the table with his arms folded across his chest.

"You're not my best friend," I said bluntly.

He gasped dramatically. "You're just mad that he's completely blind."

"That and other things," I grumbled.

He sighed and gave me a small smile. "I've already told him that nothing is going on between us," he told me. "He didn't know that fondue was just cheese and bread," he said, trailing off with a chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

I sighed and looked up from the map, staring at the wall. "God, he sounded like an idiot," I stated. "'How do I know you two haven't been…fondue-ing?'" I mocked, my voice going as deep as I could make it.

Howard let out another laugh, nodding in amusement. "I will admit, I laughed."

I groaned and slumped down, my head landing on the table. "Howard, why am I doing this?" I asked.

"There are several things that you're currently doing that could be in question. Which one are you talking about?" he asked, his tone amused.

"Steve."

"Ah!" he mused. "You're regretting your attraction to the Super-Soldier," he said with a knowing smile.

I groaned in agreement.

"Well, judging by the fact that the blonde nearly had her tongue shoved down his throat you're not the only one who is attracted to him," he noted.

A growl ripped through my throat as I pressed my head harder into the table. "Howard, I don't understand it," I stated through gritted teeth. "Before we shipped off he asked if he could write me, he said he was in the same compromising position of favoritism as me. He said that he missed me that I was his good luck charm."

His eyebrows shot up. "Compromising position of favoritism?" he asked slowly.

"I haven't had a relationship in almost ten years," I admitted. "And that was with a mobster!"

He laughed and patted me on the back. "It'll be okay, sweetheart," he chuckled. "You have more experience than he does."

"That doesn't make me feel better," I told him.

"At least we know he likes you," he mused.

"And how do we know that?"

"Because he was jealous over the thought of us being together."

I let out a gagging sound. "That would be like dating my brother."

He let out a dramatic sigh. "A sad fact that I've learned to live with, sweetheart," he said. "My point is, if he didn't like you then he wouldn't care that you were with me."

I growled and rolled my head to the side so I could look up at him. "Remind me why I'm doing this?"

He thought for a moment. "Do you want the scientific explanation or the dumb person explanation?" he asked.

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Better give me the dumb person explanation," I told him, already feeling the headache coming on.

"Because you're dumb," he stated bluntly. "This is why I don't stick with one girl for long. It messes everything up."

I let out a scoff. "I'm sorry I'm not a whore like you, Howard."

He shrugged and gave me an encouraging smile. "You'll get there one day," he promised with a wink.

I pushed myself up from the table, shaking my head. "I really hope not."

"What I don't understand is why you're letting this get to you so bad," he said, looking down at me with a confused look. "If anyone gave you this much trouble you would have clawed their face off," he stated. "You must really like him."

I couldn't help but nod. "I told you. Compromising position of favoritism."

He sighed and nodded. "Well, at least you know he likes ya."

I grimaced, not really feeling any better at that statement. "How's Project Alpha going?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

He narrowed his eyes at me, knowing what I was doing but decided to let it slide. "Better than I thought it would," he answered. "It seems that I was right about you being a feral telepath."

I gave him an unimpressed look. "And that means what?" I asked. "That I can talk to animals?"

"That's the crude answer, yes," he told me. "You're able to enter their minds, see what they see, hear what they hear, feel what they feel," he explained.

"You're little tests told you that?" I asked, a little surprised.

He chuckled and smirked. "They don't call me a genius for nothing."

I gave a thoughtful nod. "I'm sure it'll come in handy at some point," I mused. "Anything else?"

His smirk fell. "I say genius in a loose way," he admitted. "I really have no idea why you're different but you are. You said your brothers are the same?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Victor has claws instead of nails and they, uh, they grow. Jimmy's like me but I don't think he can talk to animals and we all have heightened senses," I explained. "And healing. We all heal."

"Can I see the claws again?" he asked, gesturing to my hand.

I glanced around us, making sure no one was around to see and clenched my hand, the two bone spike like claws splitting the skin between my knuckles.

Howard let out a long whistle as he reached down and picked up my hand. "I gotta admit, these are pretty amazing," he praised, holding them up and looking close. "They're bone, right?"

I shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"They have to be bone," he stated, squinting at them. "It's a natural material," he mused, running his finger across one. "It kind of reminds me of a rattlesnake."

My eyebrows shot up. "Rattlesnake?" I demanded. "You said wolf before."

He gave me a pointed look. "It's not like this is an exact study, El."

"Then you're useless," I told him, pulling the claws back into my arm, the skin healing instantly. "Don't you have something better to do?"

He threw his hands up in defense. "I know when I'm not wanted," he said, pushing off the table and walking off

"Obviously not because you're always here!" I called after him.

He laughed and waved over his shoulder before disappearing through another door.

I watched the door for a moment before turning my attention back to the map. I looked up, however, when the main door opened and I found Bucky Barnes stepping down the stairs. "Hey, Buchanan," I greeted, giving him a small smile.

His own smile pulled at his lips. "Hey, Lizbeth," he said, his voice a little hesitant. "Listen, Steve told me what happened and-"

"You better not be apologizing for him," I cut in, giving him a meaningful look.

He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. "No, he doesn't need me to fight his battles anymore," he stated, glancing off to the side with a slight frown. "I'm just the messenger."

I let out a dramatic sigh. "I suppose I can't shoot you then."

He paused in his strut towards me, his eyebrows shooting up. "You're not serious."

A soft laugh left me as I shook my head. "No, I'm not," I assured him. "Come on," I said, gesturing him over.

He shook his head slightly as he closed the space between us. "I was instructed to come down here and convince you to talk to him," he mused, taking the seat Howard had vacated earlier.

"And if you can't?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed and threw his hands up. "I don't know, Beth, tie you up and drag you to him?" he suggested, running a hand over his face.

"He's that determined, huh?"

"You have no idea," he groaned. "All he talks about is you. He gets this goofy grin on his face and his eyes go far off," he said, waving his hand about. "And ever since you shot at him he's been agonizing over how to apologize to you without getting a bullet under his skin."

"Agonizing?" I asked, feeling a little better that I hadn't been the only one suffering.

"Utterly distraught," he amended.

I nodded and gave a wry smile. "If he's so broken up about this then why the hell did he do it in the first place?" I demanded, all joking gone from my tone.

Another groan left him as he slumped down onto the table. "Because he's a moron," he answered. "Lizbeth, I can't tell you how many times I've set him up with dames and they refused to even give him a second look. The blonde dame caught him completely off guard. He didn't have a clue what to do."

A rather unladylike snort left me. "He seemed to know what he was doing," I grumbled.

He scoffed. "Like you've never reacted on instinct," he said. "He has no experience with dames and all the attention he's getting with the whole Captain America thing; it's overwhelming him."

"He seems just fine around me," I argued, feeling a little insulted.

He paused, watching me for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Lizbeth, he told me about the fair; about how you told him he could do anything; how you smiled at him…" he trailed off with a chuckle. "Beth, you're the first woman I've ever seen him comfortable with. He likes you, Beth."

"Compromising position of favoritism," I mused.

He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "That's what he said. What the hell does it mean?"

I sighed and smiled down at my fidgeting hands. "The first night at the camp I ran into him and he stood at attention. I told him he didn't have to and he asked me why; I told him 'compromising positon of favoritism'," I told him.

A knowing smile pulled at his lips. "You've been stuck on him since you first met him, haven't you?"

That cursed blush spread across my cheeks again. "I shall neither confirm nor deny."

He shook his head as he chuckled. "I knew you were something special, Lizbeth," he said, reaching out to tap my nose. "You're like Cinderella in combat boots."

I scoffed. "Hardly."

"Lizbeth, he's stuck on you, horribly stuck on you," he said. "Please, if he asks me what to do one more time I'm going to strangle him," he said, "or walk back to the front line."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "I don't doubt that you would."

"He's sorry, Beth, he really is," he said. "Please talk to him."

I watched him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Alright, fine," I said, knowing I wasn't doing any of us a favor by staying mad.

"Oh thank you," he said, moving from his slumped position to hug me. "He's waiting outside."

I patted him on the back sympathetically. "You're a good friend, Buchannan."

"You're damn right I am," he praised himself, pulling away and motioning towards stairs. "Go get him."

I hopped down off the stool and headed towards the door. I made quick work of the stairs and soon found myself standing on the London street. I found Steve leaning against a street lamp, his back to me, head ducked.

"She said no, didn't she, Buck?" he asked, not bothering to turn around, a defeated tone in his voice. "What am I going to do? I screwed up and she won't let me get close enough to explain what happened. Not that I blame her but it keeps tearing me up inside. I just want to tell her everything but…." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Bucky, I really like her and I just-" he broke off with a sigh. "I just don't know what to do."

I pulled in a deep breath. "Well, you could start by turning around," I told him.

He jumped and spun around, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "El-Eleanor!" he stuttered. "I thought you were Bucky."

I nodded. "I noticed," I said before my eyes caught sight of the roses in his hands. "Are those for Bucky?" I asked, pointing to them.

He glanced down at the flowers and quickly shook his head. "No, no, they're for you," he said, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. "You aren't going to shoot at me if I give them to you, are you?"

I shook my head, a slight blush crossing my cheeks. "No, I'm unarmed," I told him.

He closed the space between us, the flowers held out.

I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips as I took them. I leaned down slightly and inhaled deeply, loving the sweet scent they always seemed to give off. "Red, pink, yellow, and peach?" I asked, noting the colors.

He nodded again. "The woman at the flower shop said that the colors mean different things so I explained what happened and she picked a few out," he told me. "She said what they meant but, uh, I can't really remember."

"Red means respect, pink means 'please believe me', yellow means friendship and a promise of a new beginning, and peach means sincerity and appreciation," I told him, inhaling the flowers once again before looking back up at him, surprised to find a panicked look on his face. "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat and looked to the side in embarrassment. "I, uh, had a whole speech planned, I practiced it and Bucky said it sounded fine, but now that I'm in front of you it's-it's gone," he explained, a blush reddening his face.

"You practiced it in front of Buchannan?" I asked, starting to understand Bucky's frustrations.

A sigh escaped him as he nodded. "Yes and it's gone now," he said, letting his head drop.

I brought the roses up again, getting more and more amused by the situation. "Judging by how Buchannan begged me to talk to you I'm going to assume it was lengthy?"

His head shot up at that, his eyes widening once again. "Bucky begged?"

"Yep. Issued a few death threats towards you and mentioned walking himself back to the front line if I didn't talk to you," I told him. "You should thank him. Profusely."

He nodded quickly. "I'll be sure to do that," he said before his expression turned serious again. "Eleanor, I'm so sorry for what happened. I'm not going to make excuses and say that I couldn't have pushed her off or told her no. It happened and I'm going to own up to it. I-I don't mean to assume anything about you but I know how I feel and I just want to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I hurt you."

I was left speechless for a moment as I took in his crestfallen expression. "You know, for forgetting your speech that was pretty good," I told him, my smile widening.

He swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you and I'm sorry. I'm so-"

I couldn't stand to hear another apology so I pressed myself up onto my tip toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. I was pleasantly pleased when it shut him up. "She initiated it, didn't she?"

Steve could only seem to nod.

"I'm not going to apologize for being upset," I told him. "But I will apologize for not giving you a chance to explain."

"No, you had every right," he said. "I hurt you."

"I understand that it wasn't intentional," I allowed. "But if you ever assume that there's something going on between me and Howard again I will shoot you and you will not have your shield," I told him, my tone firm.

"Howard explained it to me. I'm sorry that I assumed."

I grimaced and shook my head. "I think there's been enough apologizing for one night."

"Sorry," he said before wincing.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You're a goof," I told him.

"That's a good thing, right?" he questioned, sounding nervous again.

I nodded. "Yes, that's a good thing."

Relief washed through him as he seemed to completely relax. "You know, I didn't think that you would talk to me again," he stated. "I've never had a dame shoot at me before."

"Well, you're not the first man I've shot at,' I told him with a chuckle. "You're the first man who's had a shield though."

He shifted his weight. "I won't have to have my shield with me every time I'm with you, will I?" he asked.

I thought for a moment. "You should be fine as long as I don't have a gun in my hand," I told him.

He struggled for a moment. "I'm going to need it more than I thought," he mused.

"Let's just try not to repeat the situation."

His cleared his throat again and nodded. "I can do that," he said before giving me that adorable puppy dog look. "Did you hear everything I said? When you came up here?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

I allowed a soft smile. "I heard everything you said," I told him.

His face reddened deeper and he looked away from me, his weight shifting nervously.

I laughed lightly. "You don't need to be embarrassed," I stated. "I've already told you that I'm stuck on you. Not to mention the compromising position of favoritism."

He cleared his throat and nodded. "It's, uh, it's still hard to believe, honestly," he admitted with a weak chuckle. "You're, um, the first woman to ever…." He trailed off, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "It's gonna take some getting used to, that's all."

I smiled up at him before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We'll build up that self-confidence, soldier," I promised him, more than amused by how red his face had gone. "Now, would you like to have dinner with me?"

He cleared his throat once again and nodded quickly. "I would love to," he said before offering me his arm. "Ma'am."

My smile widened as I looped my arm through his, my other hand still clutching the flowers to my chest. "There's this beautiful little place just down the street," I mused, pulling him the same way Howard had the night before.


	6. Captain America Part 6

"Agent Howlett!" Phillips called as I made my way across the tarmac.

I stopped and looked back at him. "What?!" I called, not really wanting to walk all the way back to him.

"Get over here!"

Steve paused next to me, a concerned look on his face. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his hand reaching out to rest on my lower back.

"I'll let you know," I told, flashing him a smile before making my way back towards the slightly irritated colonel. "What?" I asked again.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Late night?" he asked.

I groaned and ran a hand over my eyes. "Howard and me stayed up all night putting finishing touches on everything," I told him. "Steve found us asleep down in the lab," I explained, unable to keep the yawn down. "What did you need?"

He sighed. "Well, while I was content with Rogers' choices of teammates there was someone from my list that I'm sending with you," he told me before nodding behind me.

My eyebrows furrowed and I turned to where he was looking. My bag fell from my shoulder as I took off running, my boots thundering on the concrete. "Jimmy!" I called before crashing into him.

His laugh filled the air as he caught me, my feet lifting from the ground as he twirled us around. "Hey, Lizzy," he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he set me back down.

"I can't believe you're here!" I exclaimed, all but jumping up and down.

"What kind of brother would I be if I let you go off on your own?" he asked.

I laughed at that. "Then why the hell isn't Victor here?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Do you really want him here?" he questioned. "I don't think he would be too happy about Blondie," he told me, shooting a glance over to the plane.

"If you start to act like Victor, I will start to act like Victor," I threatened, my grip on his shoulders tightening. "Do we have an understanding?"

He chuckled and nodded. "I'm not going to step on your toes," he told me.

"Damn right you are," I agreed before slapping him on the shoulder. "Come on, we gotta plane to catch," I told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to where Phillips and my bag were waiting. "Thank you, Chester, this means a lot to me," I told him, thinking to hug him but knew that he would probably hit me.

He huffed. "Don't thank me, he's a good soldier, that's the only reason he's here," he brushed off with that gruff tone of his. "Now get your skinny ass on that plane," he ordered, holding up my bag for me.

I gave him a salute and took my bag. "Yes, sir," I said, turning back to Jimmy as I grabbed his hand again and pulled him forward.

The men stopped their tasks when me and Jimmy stepped up onto the plane, their faces falling slightly when they saw our joined hands.

I cleared my throat and pulled Jimmy forward a little more. "Jimmy, this is Timothy Dugan, Gabe Jones, Jim Morita, James Falsworth, Jacques Derner, and James Barnes," I said, pointing to each of the men who nodded in greeting. "Everyone, this is my brother James."

The long faces brightened at that and they stepped forward to shake hands.

I looked past the group and spotted Steve standing in the front of the plane, his face slightly pale. I motioned for him to come forward, an encouraging smile on my face.

Steve squared his shoulders and came over.

I reached out and grabbed Steve's hand, pulling him closer. "Jimmy," I said, catching his attention. "I want you to meet Captain Steve Rogers."

"Sir," Steve said, holding his hand out.

"Captain," Jimmy said back, shaking Steve's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Eleanor's told me so much about you."

I smiled fondly at the mention of our letters, most of them containing stories of our family and friends.

"And you're still shaking my hand?" Jimmy asked with a chuckle.

I lost my smile and threw and elbow into his side, earning a wince from him.

Steve chuckled with him. "The way Eleanor talks about you I doubt you're that bad."

Jimmy shot me a small smirk. "Let's see if I can live up to her praise."

I went to hit him again but stopped when I saw a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye. "Jimmy, whatever you do, don't kill him," I pleaded.

He gave me a confused look before Howard's voice split the air.

"There's my favorite sweetheart! Couldn't stay away from me, could ya, honey?"

We looked over and found Howard climbing into the plane, a smirk on his lips that made you either want to kiss him or slap him.

Jimmy looked him up and down, a hard look in his eye.

"Howard, this is James, my brother," I introduced, spinning Jimmy around to face him. "Jimmy, this is Howard Stark, he's our pilot and whatever else we need him to be."

"Nice to meet a relative of El's," Howard said, holding his hand out. "She doesn't stop talking about her two brothers and quiet honestly I was close to gagging her."

To my surprise a smile pulled at Jimmy's lips as he shook Howard's hand. "She just chews through it," he told him.

I gaped at him as Howard gave me a questioning look. "One time," I defended. "We were six."

"Sure, sweetheart, whatever you say," he said before throwing me a wink and heading towards the cockpit.

"Baise-moi," I groaned, foreseeing a friendship in the future.

"I didn't think ladies used that sort of language," Gabe said, a teasing expression on his face.

Jimmy let out a laugh. "Try stopping her," he stated, nudging me as he stepped past to put his stuff with the others.

* * *

After a rather long plane ride with Steve and Jimmy for company Howard dropped us off just outside Germany, leaving us with a two day trek that would get us to the first factory. The walk was quiet and tense, everyone on alert for patrols and anything else that would make our job difficult. By the time we made it to where we would be setting up camp I had a handful of wildflowers that Steve picked every time he came across one, something the other guys laughed about while I had stated that they were jealous.

The camp was an easy setup, each of us having our own sleeping rolls and food rations. Jimmy and I ended up gathering the firewood, seeing as we were the only ones who could walk through the forest without snapping a twig or making any sudden noises.

When the sun went down and the temperature followed we all gathered around the small fire Timothy had managed to make.

They were telling war stories when we heard them, the sharp sounds of snapping twigs and heavy paws against the ground.

"Wolves," Jimmy stated, a smile pulling at his lips as his eyes scanned the trees. He watched a moment more before looking to me with an expectant look.

I hesitated slightly and sighed. "Want to hear something amazing?" I asked, looking to the others.

A mesh of confused agreements left the group

I couldn't help but smile as I raised my head to the sky, the howl leaving my throat as I did so. The sound echoed through the open air, making it half way through before several more joined in. I cut mine off and allowed the wolves to continue it.

The men were looking around them with wide eyes as they realized just how close the wolves were.

"Wow," Bucky muttered, his eyes wide as he looked back to me. "How'd you do that?"

I shrugged and leaned back into Jimmy. "You just have to have the right pitch," I answered.

"They're not going to eat us, are they?" Falsworth asked, his tone sarcastic.

Jimmy let out a snort. "No. The fire gives away their positions. They won 't come close," he explained.

"They're just curious," I added, smiling as their curiosity flittered through my head, Howard's words of 'you feel what they feel' making more sense. "If they were going to kill us they wouldn't ambush, they would pick us off one by one."

"That's comforting," Timothy muttered.

I chuckled. "Don't worry, they'd eat me first," I told him.

"Why?" Steve asked, scooting a little closer to me, not liking the idea of me being eaten.

"She's the smallest," Jimmy explained, nudging me.

I rolled my eyes. "They'd be better off with one of you fellas. At least it would feed more of them."

"How about no one gets eaten?" Steve suggested, though he sounded amused by the whole thing.

There were hums of agreement all around.

"Not that I'll be able to with the wolves circling but I'm going to get some shut eye," Jim stated, throwing out his sleeping roll and collapsing onto it.

Agreements once again came from all around.

"I'll take the first watch," Steve stated.

"Are you sure?" Jimmy asked.

He nodded. "I, uh, fell asleep on the plane," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jimmy chuckled and nodded. "G'night, Lizzy," he said before following Jim's example and collapsing back onto his sleeping roll.

"Goodnight, Jimmy," I said, shifting my position so I was leaning towards Steve.

It didn't take long for the men to fall asleep and soon the only sound was the cracking of the fire.

"You should get some sleep, Eleanor," Steve told me, his voice soft.

I let out a sigh before letting my head drop down onto his shoulder. "But you'll be up all night," I protested.

"Eleanor, I found you asleep in the lab this morning," he told me. "Howard said that he fell asleep before you did."

I grumbled and moved over till I was practically pressed into his side. "I'm not tired," I argued.

Steve tensed at the touch. "What are you doing?" he asked, the panic back in his voice.

"Do you want me to move?" I asked, a smirk on my lips as I watched the fire.

"No!" he rushed out, shifting towards me so I was better cushioned against his shoulder. "You're fine where you are," he told me.

"Good," I sighed, snuggling closer to him. "You're really warm."

He chuckled nervously. "It wasn't always that way," he said. "Back when I was smaller winters almost killed me."

"With your asthma it must have been terrible," I noted.

"It was," he agreed. "Bucky and I used to camp out around the radiator in his parent's house."

I shifted my head to look up at him. "Yeah, he said you used to take the cushions off the couch," I remembered.

"He told you that?" he asked, seeming a little surprised.

I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his shoulder. "When we were on the front lines we talked about family," I explained. "I told him about my brothers and he told me about you."

"Really?"

"Yep. When he found out that I knew you all the embarrassing stories came out."

He groaned and dropped his head back. "Oh hell, what did he tell you?" he demanded.

"Nothing worse than what I told him," I promised, stretching up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "Your secrets are safe with me."

His blush returned as he cleared his throat and nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"Anytime, Steve," I told him, allowing my eyes to close as I slipped an arm around his waist.

"Eleanor, please, get some sleep," he said, his arm coming up to wrap his arm around my own waist.

I groaned in protest. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You're not," he told me, a smile in his voice. "You're right here," he said, pulling me closer to him.

"You sure?" I asked, my consciousness already slipping.

"Sleep, Eleanor," he whispered.

I fell into darkness with the feeling of pressure on my forehead, my sleep idled brain assuming it as a kiss.

* * *

I woke to fresh morning air and the chill that usually came with it. Pulling in a deep breath I pushed myself up into a sitting position, my arms stretching above me as my back arched, several pops sounding.

"Well don't you look beautiful in the morning?"

I looked over to find them all watching me from around the fire, amused expressions on all their faces. I could only imagine what I looked like but I refused to give more than half a shit about it this early in the morning. "Those dark circles sure do bring out your eyes, Buck," I told him, pushing the blanket off me and getting to my feet, my knees and ankles popping as I did so.

"You're just jealous of my natural beauty," he stated, flashing me that sarcastic smile of his.

I let out a snort as I stepped over to them. "Yeah, natural something," I muttered before taking the spot between him and Jimmy. "Isn't it a little early for that?" I asked, eyeing the cigar between his teeth.

He let out a bark of a laugh. "Says the girl who smokes half a pack before breakfast," he argued.

"At least I don't chew on the damned things," I stated, flashing him a smile before pulling the lighter and pack of cigarettes out of the front of my jacket.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and leaned over to bump my shoulder. "Hypocrite," he grumbled.

I flashed him a smile as I flicked the lighter to life and pulled in a deep drag. I let the flame die and blew the smoke out into his face.

His nose wrinkled as he leaned away.

"Those will kill you, you know," Steve stated, a slight frown in his voice.

"If only," I muttered, turning my attention to him. My intention had been to wish him good morning but the words died in my throat when I saw the state of his hair. I choked on a laugh as I looked around the circle of men to find their own hair in a similar state. "Do none of you own a comb?" I asked between laughs.

They each took the time to look each other over, their sleep heavy expressions quickly turning into smiles as they realized what they looked like. Pretty soon we were all laughing, clumsy fingers running through disheveled locks in attempts to blindly tame it.

I reached back and grabbed my pack, pulling it open and grabbing my brush. I gathered my hair onto one shoulder and started to work out the tangles, a little upset with myself for not having braided it before sleeping.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Dugan asked as he watched me rip into my hair.

"I've had years of practice," I told him, remembering all the times Victor had insisted on combing my hair and being not so gentle about it. Switching it to the other shoulder to work out that side's snarls before letting it hang down my back. I separated it into three sections and began braiding it, my arms bent awkwardly behind me as I did so, the process probably looking ridiculous.

Buchanan shook his head as he watched. "I never understood how you dames can do that," he stated, amazement in his tone.

"It's not that hard," I stated. "Jimmy and Victor know how to do it."

Jimmy raised his hands in surrender. "I plead the 5th."

I rolled my eyes and brought it around my shoulder as I searched for the hair tie I had thrown into my bag. Making quick work of knotting the strand of leather around the end of the braid I let it fall. "How's it look?" I asked, pinching the cigarette between my index and middle finger, blowing out the smoke as I pulled my best pin-up pose.

Hums of approval left the men.

"You look beautiful, Eleanor," Steve said, that breathtaking smile back on his face.

"Thank you," I said, smiling back with a slight blush.

Bucky made a gagging sound.

"You look beautiful too, Buck," Steve told him with a wink.

He scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out at him.

* * *

Taking over the first factory had been easier than I had originally thought. Under the careful planning of Steve everything went off without a hitch, the only down side being Jimmy getting shot. Luckily I had been with him at the time and was able to explain to him that the others didn't know what we were. He was annoyed at first but eventually agreed to keep our secret for the time being, telling me that they were bound to find out sooner or later. The fight had been settled for almost half an hour and we had taken to combing through the building to find anything useful or interesting while we waited for Howard to signal that he was close.

I had been picking through the various crates that lined the walls when I smelled it, the scent grotesquely familiar. "Do you smell that?" I asked, looking over to Jimmy.

His eyebrows pulled together as he raised his head and sniffed at the air. "Yeah. Where is it coming from?" he asked.

I shook my head as I moved away from the wall and towards the center of the factory floor.

"I don't smell anything," Gabe stated, looking just as confused as the others.

"Me neither," Jim agreed.

"No, it's there," I argued, raising my head and pulling in a deep breath. "Where the fuck is it coming from?" I demanded, looking back to Jimmy.

He shrugged and walked over to me. "It's not in here," he stated, gesturing to the large room. "There's lower levels, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, for storage," I answered, dropping my gaze to the floor. "There should be crane doors somewhere."

"Like these?" Falsworth asked as he pushed aside several crates to reveal the typical wooden doors.

I flashed him a smile and nodded quickly. "Brilliantly spotted," I praised, walking over to him. "Are they open?" I asked, unable to ignore how much stronger the smell was the closer I got.

He reached down and pulled at one of the doors. "They're locked," he answered, shaking his head.

"Damn," I grumbled, handing off the rifle to him as I crouched down in front of the doors. My eyebrows pulled together when I couldn't find the hinges. "They open downwards," I noted.

"Why would they do that?" Falsworth asked, looking just as confused as I was.

"Maybe it's not for storage," Jimmy suggested, walking over to join us.

I shot him a questioning look before standing up again. "How far down do you think it goes?"

He shrugged. "At least 10 feet," he guessed.

"Not too bad," I told myself before raising a foot and stomping it down between the two handles. The wood gave way faster than I thought it would and I found myself suddenly off balance and falling towards the darkness.

"Eleanor!" Steve's voice sounded over the others before I was completely submersed.

The smell hit me before the floor did. It was the remorsefully familiar scent of rotting flesh, ingrained in my mind from the battlefields of the Civil War. Piles of bodies, both Confederate and Union, baking in the sun hours after their deaths. Despite Victor's adoration for all things war he would often admit that the smell made him sick.

A yelp of pain left me when I finally hit the ground, my arm emitting a snap as it broke.

"Fuck," I gasped as I grimaced into the stone floor, my lungs struggling to pull in air from the awkward fall. I pushed myself over onto my back and started up at the trap doors, managing to make out the faces that peered down at me.

"Eleanor, are you okay?!" Steve called down.

Still out of breath I gave him a simple thumbs up.

Jimmy let out a laugh. "She's fine."

I shifted the thumbs up and flipped him off.

"We'll get you out! Hang on!" Steve told me before his head disappeared.

I winced and pushed myself up, the tingling pain of healing already making its way up my arm.

"Lizzy?"

I looked back up to my brother. "What?"

"It's coming from down there, isn't it?" he asked, his tone matching the way my stomach felt.

I nodded and got to my feet. "Yeah, it's down here," I agreed. "I'm going to find out what it is."

"Be careful," he advised before he disappeared as well.

I turned myself in a circle before shuffling off in the direction where the smell was the strongest. I forced myself to take shallower breathes as I went, my stomach knotting tighter and tighter. My eyes adjusted the darker it got and soon I found myself facing a section of morgue freezers. After being in the hands of Dr. Zola I didn't really need to guess what the room's purpose had been. I reached out and jerked open one the closest freezer door. I jumped back and threw a hand over my mouth and nose, dry heaves threatening to discharge what little I had had to eat that day. I took a moment to fight the instinct to run before grabbing the tray handle and pulling it out.

"Jesus," I breathed.

The face was held no recognizable characteristics, the cut and stripped away flesh resembling hamburger meat. The chest hosted the usual autopsy lines but the part that caught my attention was the bluish tint of the skin. While most dead bodies were a sickly pale green color this one was a distinct blue.

I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing as I took in the small details of the body. I was convinced it was mutilation till I saw the gills on the side of his neck. "Mutant," I whispered.

A new panic washed over me and I rushed to open the rest of the freezers. Each tray was occupied with the body of a mutant.

"What the hell?" I asked, backing away from the bodies and looking around the rest of the room. I spotted a desk sitting against the wall and walked over, eagerly shuffling through the papers that littered the surface. I paused when I came upon hand written notes. "'Subject 006 shows low tolerance to high temperatures,'" I read, "'Heartbeat stopped after 5 hours of exposure. Biopsy shows complete system failure over a long period of time'," I continued, the urge to throw up growing stronger by the minute. "Dr. Klaus Schmidt. Another fucking Schmidt," I muttered, shuffling through the rest of the papers before gathering it all up and shoving it into my coat. I looked back to the bodies and found myself hesitant about leaving them. "Jimmy?!" I called.

There was a second of silence. "Yeah, Lizzy?!"

"Will you drop down my camera and flashlight?!" I asked, walking back under the doors.

He seemed confused for a moment but after taking in my expression he nodded and went off.

I took the time to examine my arm, my fingers curling and uncurling in an effort to quicken the healing. The torn skin had closed and I could feel the bone knitting back together, the pain edging away.

"Here!"

I looked up in time to catch the falling objects. "Thank you!" I yelled up to him before moving back over to the bodies. Clicking the flashlight on I held it above the first body and snapped a picture of their face. I moved to each body and continued the process, making sure to grab the toe tags as I went, keeping them in order so I knew their names. I tucked the camera and the tags with the rest of the information before making my way through the rest of the room, grabbing anything I deemed important. I stopped when I spotted several gas cans sitting against the far wall.

"They can't see this," I mused, knowing that their sudden discovery of mutants wouldn't go over too well. "Well, short of blowing it up," I muttered, walking over and picking them up. I unscrewed both and made my way around the room once again, emptying the contents onto anything that would burn. I poured a generous amount onto the bodies and set the cans just below the freezers.

"Eleanor?!"

I jumped at the sound of Steve's voice and looked back to the hole to find him leaning in again. "I'm here!" I called, walking back over.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I glanced back at the bodies and felt my stomach roll again. "Get me out of here."

He caught the edge in my voice and nodded. "I will," he promised.

Buchannan appeared opposite him and dropped down a length of rope with a harness attached to it. "You know how to get into it?" he asked.

"Shut up, Buchannan," I said, shimmying into the straps. "Go ahead!" I called up before the rope jerked and I was being lifted into the air. As soon as I was close enough Steve reached down and grabbed my waist, hoisting me up the rest of the way.

"See? Not a scratch on her," Jimmy commented from beside Bucky.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Steve asked, his grip tightening as he looked me over. "You fell pretty far."

I gave him a small smile. "I've been through worse," I assured him.

The concern didn't leave his eyes as he nodded and began to undo the harness.

"What was down there?" Timothy asked.

I looked over to the others, taking in their curious expressions and finding that all I could think of was the disfigured bodies. "You don't want to know," I told them, shaking my head. "You really don't."

They seemed surprised by the answer, their smiles falling.

I turned my attention back to Steve as the harness fell away. "Is everything important outside?" I asked, stepping out of the contraption, Steve's hands moving to my upper arms.

"Yes."

"And Howard's meeting us a mile off?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any matches?"

His eyebrows pulled together but he didn't question me. "Yes," he answered, reaching into his utility belt and pulling out a book of them.

"Thank you," I said, taking them from his hand and turning back to the hole. With the book set alight I tossed them down and watched as the room erupted into flames, the heat almost instant. "We should go."

Steve watched me for a moment before nodding, seeming to understand that I wasn't going to give an explanation. "Let's move out," he said, addressing the others.

They seemed hesitant but, like Steve, didn't question.

* * *

The wait for Howard was a quiet one, the men giving me the space they thought I needed. I had found a spot by a tree, the grooves of the trunk making a rather nice place for solace. With my knees pulled up close the papers from the sublevel were pressed tight to my chest. I hadn't looked at them since I found them and I wasn't in any hurry to. In my 110 years of life I had seen some very disturbing things, both in the wars and in day-to-day life, but I had never seen anything like this. Something this sick. With Howard and Ab's held I had began to understand what me and my brothers were; mutants. For the longest time I had believed that my small family of three were the only ones of our kind; the only freaks, but there had been twelve in the morgue.

"You okay, Lizzy?"

I looked up and found Jimmy walking towards me. "Physically or mentally?" I questioned back.

"Both."

"Completely fine and fucked up."

He nodded slowly and crouched down in front of me, his hands coming up to rest on top of my knees. "What was down there?" he inquired, his voice quiet enough so the others wouldn't hear.

I swallowed hard and toyed with the idea of not telling him, still not sure what I had found. "There are more people like us than we thought," I told him.

His eyebrows popped up. "There are?"

I nodded. "There were twelve," I said, my throat tightening as I thought of them. "They were taken apart and just left there to rot."

"Experimented on?" he pressed.

"Extensively."

His frown dipped lower at that. "I'm sorry, Lizzy," he said, his hands moving to cup my face. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I sniffed and shook my head the best I could. "I'm glad I found them and not the others," I said. "I'm not particularly ready for that conversation."

He dropped his hands to my shoulders and sighed. "Lizzy, they're going to find out sooner or later," he told me.

"I know but I'm going to keep them in the dark for as long as I can," I told him. "I found the notes from the doctor and I'm going to show Chester. I want to see if he's heard of them before."

He nodded absently, his eyes narrowed in a knowing look. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I swallowed harder and let my head drop back against the tree trunk. "It's the Civil War all over again," I admitted. "The same smells, the same colors."

"It's never easy," he agreed. "But you're strong and you've made it through two wars. You're going to be just fine," he promised me, reaching up to tweak my nose.

I couldn't help the giggle that left me at the childish act. "You're right."

"Damn right," he grunted. "Come on, you're worrying your soldier."

A blush swept across my face again and I refused to comment on it. I shoved his face away and pushed myself to my feet, dusting my butt off as I followed behind him towards the others.

They looked over once we were close enough, their eyes going to Jimmy as if to asking if everything was okay. A question to which he gave a nod to.

I gave them a small smile and shuffled over to Steve, leaving a few feet between us. "Have you heard from Howard?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Not since the time before," he answered, a hesitant tone in his voice. "Are you okay?"

I thought to tell him to stop starting conversations with that question but a part of me knew it wouldn't be appreciated. "I will be," I told him.

"What was down there, Eleanor?" he asked, far from curious and closer to concern.

I opened my mouth to answer but my throat had already tightened and I simply shook my head.

He smiled softly and gave a nod, seeming to know better than to press it.

I cringed and went to apologize when Howard's voice sounded from the radio on Steve's belt.

_"I'm coming for you!"_ he sing songed.

I let out a snort of laughter and rub a hand across my face. "I'd rather stay here."

Those who heard nodded in agreement.

* * *

"And it's not the same Schmidt?" Chested asked, his eyes remaining on the numerous papers.

I shook my head. "Dr. Zola does all of Johann's experiments," I stated. "Besides, this doesn't really seem like his style."

"Maybe his interest was piqued when he got his hands on you," he mused, shooting me a pointed look.

"Not likely," I denied. "Some of those notes date weeks before Dr. Zola got ahold of me and some during."

He nodded in understanding and looked back down to the notes. "Mutants, huh?"

"Yeah," I answered, pulling my camera out of my jacket. "I got pictures of their faces-" I cut off to clear my throat, "and I took their toe tags. Maybe I could track down their families."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You want that responsibility?" he questioned.

"Who else is going to take it?" I questioned back.

His frown deepened but he didn't argue with me. "Do you think there are more labs like this?"

"I want to say no but….."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Right," he gruffed. "Okay, I'm compartmentalizing. Since you and your brother are the only ones who understand just what the hell is going on with this Dr. Klaus Schmidt he's now your responsibility."

"Are you going to tell Steve?" I wondered, not really looking forward to that conversation.

"I'm going to tell him that it's classified," he assured me. "You don't have to tell him unless the situation calls for it; one I hope never arises."

I gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Chester."

"No sense in making this any more difficult for you," he said, gathering together the papers and pushing them back towards me. "You're already handling this better than you should be."

I let out a sarcastic snort. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"It means that anyone else would have gone into shock," he stated. "Any of those boys would have gone catatonic if they found what you found. You've got guts of steel, Howlett, hold onto that."

I almost glowed at the compliment, the words seeming to mean more coming from him.

His lips twitched into a small smile as he watched me. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" he suggested. "You look like Hell."

I let out a startled laugh and shook my head. "Sir, yes sir," I said, giving a sarcastic salute as I got up from the chair. "When do we get our marching orders?"

"I'll speak with the Captain," he told me.

I nodded and slipped out the door.

* * *

Insomnia was not a new concept to me. Ever since the night we ran I have had periods of it, on and off for over a hundred years. My brothers would usually join me if I managed to wake one of them up when I wondered around the house, Victor making me hot chocolate and Jimmy singing to me in French. It went on for months after the Civil War, the memories of the trenches making it almost impossible to keep my eyes closed.

After spending 3 hours tossing and turning, I got up from bed, put on my coat and wondered outside. My breath puffed out as I walked down the path, my hands shoving beep into my pockets. The dull throbbing that accompanied the sleeplessness was back just behind my eyes, making it harder to think.

"Eleanor?"

I stopped and looked back, not at all surprised to find Steve walking towards me. "Hiya, solider," I greeted.

"Hi," he greeted back, an easy smile in his lips. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

I chuckled and shook my head. "I can't sleep. What's your excuse?"

Steve came to a stop a few feet away, still seeming cautious. "Just speaking with Colonel Phillips about the plans for the next mission," he answered.

My eyebrows shot up. "We got back six hours ago," I noted. "A little early don't you think?"

He was quiet for a moment. "There was something in that basement that scared you," he said, "and I've known you long enough to know that it would take something horrible for that to happen. I want to stop it from happening again."

I didn't realize that I was hugging him till his arms were around me. I took a moment to let it sink in, the feel of his arms, the heat radiating off of him and his scent surrounding me. "Thank you," I said, my voice muffled by his jacket.

He ran his hands up my back and squeezed me tighter. "You don't have to thank me," he told me. "You would do the same."

"Still, thank you," I repeated, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

His face flushed again and he ducked his head down, a soft laugh leaving him. "You're welcome."

"When do we leave?" I asked, not bothering to pull away from him,

He cleared his throat. "Tomorrow night," he answered. "Colonel Phillips wanted us to ship out as soon as possible. Whatever you two talked about has him worried."

I nodded. "He already has Johann to worry about, he doesn't need this too."

His eyebrows creased as he looked down at me. "Eleanor, you know…" he trailed off hesitantly. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he asked. "About anything."

I couldn't help my smile. "I know, it's just not something that you need in your life," I told him.

"But you do?"

It wasn't so much of a question as it was an accusation.

I dropped my eyes and nodded. "Unfortunately."

"I wish it wasn't," he said, his voice soft.

I pressed my cheek back into his jacket and hugged him tighter. "Maybe after the war," I mused.

"I hope so," he told me, his breath ruffling my hair.

I pulled in a calming breath and let it out slowly. "Well, you'll be there," I said, practically throwing myself into the fire. "You still owe me a dance, soldier."

He nodded. "I do."

"I'm going to hold you to it, too," I stated. "I'm not going to let you rest till I get my dance."

"I doubt I'll forget, Eleanor," he assured me. "Not with you."

A warmth spread through my chest at that. "Promise?" I found myself asking.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I promise."

I let my eyes slip closed. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," he agreed, pressing another kiss to my head. "Come on, you need to sleep."

I groaned as he unwound his arms from around me, the heat that seemed to radiate from him disappeared all too fast. "Must I?" I asked, grabbing a hold of his arm and keeping him in place. "I don't know if you've noticed but we don't get a lot of time alone."

A light blush swept across his face. "I've noticed," he agreed with a conceding nod. "Alright, what would you like to do?"

I thought for a moment before I threaded my fingers through his. "Care for a moonlit stroll, soldier?"

His smile stretched wide. "It would be my pleasure, Ellie."

I stopped at that, looking up to him in surprise. "'Ellie'?"

A soft blush swept across his face as he nodded. "Yeah, well, everyone else seems to have a nickname for you so…" he trailed off, clearing his throat," if you don't like it I can think of-"

"No!" I cut in. "No, I love it. No one's ever called me that before; it suits me."

His smile stretched across his face as he pulled me down the graveled path.

* * *

"And you weren't arrested?"

I shook my head with a wide smile. "They couldn't catch me," I stated proudly. "Victor and Jimmy weren't so lucky though. I had to bail them out in the morning."

He let out a laugh. "How'd that go?"

I shrugged. "They seemed to forget the whole thing when they saw the box of donuts I brought them."

He laughed at that, his smile widening as he shook his head. "And it all started cause of a poodle?"

"A very disrespectful poodle," I corrected, my smile uncontrollable as he laughed harder, his head going back and his hand coming up to press over his heart.

"Oh God," he gasped, pulling in a lungful of air, "and I thought Buck and I had some weird adventures."

I nodded. "Buchanan's told me a few interesting ones," I told him. "Did you two really ride on top of a bus?"

He nodded with a shrug. "We didn't have enough money for both of us," he explained.

"You ever hop a train?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Can't say that I have."

"Easiest way to travel and you meet the nicest people," I informed him. "You just gotta be ready to run as soon as you stop."

He let out a snort of laughter before he could catch himself. "And you're an agent for the United States Government."

"And you're America's New Hope," I scoffed, smacking his shoulder. "What a perfect team."

He reached up and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. "I think we make a great team," he told me.

My smile widened as I looped my arm around his waist.


	7. Captain America Part 7

The first time my brothers and I rode in an airplane it crashed. While Victor and I walked away with a better understanding on how they worked, Jimmy walked away with an utter fear of them. While he refused to show that fear and got onto airplanes with little to no complaint it was when the turbulence started that he lost his composure.

"Son of a bitch."

A smirk pulled at my lips at the sound of my brother's grumbled voice. I cracked open an eye and looked over at him, not at all surprised to find him tense and clutching the seat like a lifeline. "You doing okay there, Jimmy?" I questioned.

A sneer pulled at his lips as he looked over at me. "Shut up, Lizzy," he growled.

"Just warn me if you're going to throw up."

"Lizzy."

A snort of laughter left me at that as another wave of turbulence rocked the plane. "This isn't as bad as that flight from Paris."

He groaned and dropped his back to rest against the wall. "Don't remind me."

"What happened on the flight from Paris?"

My smile grew at the sound of Steve's voice and I looked over to him, once again pleased that he had sat next to me. "The plane's engine stalled and we dived 30,000 feet before I managed to get us level again."

Steve's eyebrows shot up at that. "Before you leveled it?" he asked.

I gave him a pointed look. "Are you really that surprised that I know how to fly a plane?"

He laughed at that and shook his head. "No, I guess not," he answered. "Any reason the engine stalled? I wouldn't take you as a pilot who doesn't check her craft."

I snorted at that. "It was an old plane," I said, deciding that telling him it was a Curtiss 18T and that the flight had been in 1918 was probably a bad idea.

He seemed to accept that answer. "You must be a pretty good flyer then," he praised.

"A lady never brags," I stated. "Her accomplishments should speak for themselves."

Steve beamed at that. "Believe me, Ellie, they do," he told me.

I could feel my cheeks redden at that and I resisted the urge to giggle like a love sick school girl. "I'm glad my efforts aren't wasted."

"Far from it."

"You two are going to make me sick," Jimmy growled out.

I grimaced at that and looked back over to him. "Are you sure it's not just the plane?" I asked, my tone far from amused.

The corner of his lips twitched into a small smile. "No, I'm sure it's you two," he answered. "The sugar you two are giving off is going to give me a tooth ache."

I wrinkled my nose and stuck my tongue out at him. "You're just being a sourpuss because you have to jump out of a plane," I stated.

He barked out a laugh. "That's the part I'm looking forward to."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "I have to agree with you," I told him. "I do love jumping out a perfectly good airplane."

"That's because you have issues."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Well we are related."

"Unfortunately."

"Really, Lizzy?"

"Unfortunately."

"Please tell me we're jumping soon," Jimmy pleaded, looking over me and to Steve.

The Super Solider seemed highly amused by the sibling teasing and nodded. "We're a few minutes out," he answered before undoing his harness and getting up. "Suit up!" he called over the roaring hum of the engine.

I followed suit and undid my harness. I took the opportunity to stretch out from the two hour flight and caught Steve watching me from the corner of my eye. "Something wrong, soldier?" I asked, unable to help the smirk.

He cleared his throat and shook his head, turning his attention back to his parachute. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look in that uniform?" he asked, his voice quiet enough so the others wouldn't hear.

My cheeks reddened once again and I distracted myself with pulling my parachute from its stashed position under the seat. "And you look rather dashing in yours," I complimented.

"Why thank you," he said. "Someone very special to me made it."

I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you and Howard were so close."

He nearly dropped his parachute he started laughing so hard.

I smiled proudly at that and pulled on the parachute, quickly doing up the harness, silently thanking Howard for upgrading them. I couldn't count how many times I'd broken my legs due to a failed parachute. "Who's going first?!" I called, turning to face the others.

They all looked to each other, seeming more than hesitant to speak up.

"I'm going first," Jimmy stated, his tone firm as he jerked on his harness. "The sooner I'm off this fucking thing the better."

Steve nodded in understanding. "Hit the ground running. We're dropping into enemy territory so there might be-"

Whatever he was about to say was lost as a thundering boom filled the air and a violent tremor shook the plane. We pitched forward and crashed to the floor of the plane, landing in a heap.

"Howard?!" both me and Steve shouted as we untangled ourselves.

"We've got some unexpected company!" Howard yelled back from the cockpit. "Hang on!"

"That's not really an option!" Steve stated, his arm shooting out to wrap around my waist as another tremor rocked the plane.

"Howard, we can't-" I was cut off as one of the explosions went off a little too close to the plane and the smell of fire filed the air. "Shit," I growled, using Steve's shoulder to push myself up and looked out one the windows to the wing. I wasn't at all surprised to find it on fire. "Engine 1 is on fire! Howard, you'll have to jump!"

"What?!"

I stumbled as I made my way over to the cockpit. "I'm sorry, do you want to blow up?!" I asked, bracing in the doorway and looking down at him. "Get your parachute on or you're jumping without one."

He looked back at me, a panicked look on his face. "Have I ever told you that I have an issue with heights?"

"You what?!" I snapped, lurching forward as another explosion went off. I reached over his shoulder and undid the straps holding him down.

"Uh, El, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Hold the yolk steady," I told him, grabbing hold of one of the straps and jerking on it, tearing the top free of the seat. I stretched it out and wrapped it around the yolk before tying it off. "Up," I ordered, grasping his arm and all but pulling him from the seat. I pushed him out of the cockpit and was pleased to find that Steve and Jimmy were the only ones who hadn't jumped. "The wing's going to blow, he's coming with us," I told them, ducking down to grab another parachute.

"El, I really don't-"

We were once again thrown as the aforementioned on fire wing exploded, sending the plane spinning. Everything became a blur as we thrashed around, the open jump door becoming a vacuum and one by one they were pulled out into open air.

I blinked against the assault of the wind and tried to locate the screaming Howard Stark. Flattening my arms to my sides and bringing my legs together I shot towards him, wondering if my parachute would be enough to hold both of us.

"EL!" he shouted when he spotted me, holding both his hands out to me.

I slammed into him, my arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders as we tumbled down out of control. "Howard, wrap your arms around my waist and grab your wrists!" I told him.

He did just that, making sure that there was no chance of his letting go of me.

"Is this parachute going to hold both of us?!"

He shook his head. "Not for long!"

I grimaced at that before reaching up and pulling the cord.

The parachute deployed and jerked them to a slower fall but overall not doing much to stop their fall.

"I'm going to try to steer us away from the trees but the parachute will rip at some point and we will fall!" I told him. "I'm going to twist us so I take the initial impact but it's still going to hurt!"

He nodded, his eyes darting up to watch the silk canvas above us. "We got about five minutes before it gives. Make them count!"

Grabbing hold of the handles I maneuvered us over the trees, the distance between them and us becoming shorter and shorter. We cleared a rather dense patch of forest when the unmistakable sound of ripping was heard and like a string had been cut, we began to fall. I brought my arms back around him as I twisted us around so my back was to the ground.

"I think my issues with heights is gone!" he shouted, watching the ground get closer and closer.

I hit the trees laughing.

Soon our yelps of pain joined the snaps of breaking branches as we plummeted to the ground. It seemed like an eternity before we came to a stop, the parachute catching on a branch and yanking me to a standstill while Howard's grip slipped from my waist to around my ankles.

I took the moment of sudden stillness to breathe and found the familiar taste of blood in my throat. With a grimace of pain I shifted my shoulders and felt the searing pain just under my shoulder blade. "Howard, are you okay?" I asked, my voice strained from the fluid filling my lungs.

"Nothing that won't heal," he answered out of breath. "What about you?"

"S-something's pierced my lung," I told him. "I'm g-going to pass out soon so you'll b-be on your own."

"Think you can swing me over to that branch?"

I looked over to the closest branch and decided that it wasn't an unreasonable distance away. "Yes. Start swinging," I told him.

He nodded and began to swing his legs side to side.

I pulled in a strangled breath and began to lift my legs to help his swings. A grunt of pain left me as he reached out for the branch, his weight shifting to just one of my legs.

He latched onto the branch and swung his other arm around while his legs came up. He lifted himself up and was soon straddling the branch. "I have to pull it out right?" he asked, pushing himself up to crawl along the branch towards the trunk.

I nodded. "If you w-want me to heal faster."

"Hang on," he said, reaching up to pull himself onto the higher branch. He moved cautiously as he inch down it, probably silently praying that it wouldn't break under him. He stretched out across it and reached down towards me, his fingers outstretched towards my left shoulder.

A gurgled gasp left me when he pulled the piece of branch from my back. The healing burn was instant, my body working fast to keep me from passing out, the blood in my lungs disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. The black spots that had become my vision was clearing up, allowing me to see just where we had landed. We were stuck about 15 feet above the ground and as far as I could see there wasn't a break in the trees.

"Do we know how far off course we are?" I questioned.

Howard tossed the piece of branch away and pushed himself back up. "5 miles at the most," he answered, dropping his head back to look through the trees, his eyes squinting. "God, you can't even see the sky."

A frustrated sigh left me. "I've been in worse situations, we'll be fine," I assured him, wincing as the torn muscle kitted back together. "I have a compass and a map, we can find our way. Plus Jimmy and I can find each other as long as one of us is up wind."

Howard let out a laugh. "Not to mention Steve. I bet he's pretty frantic now."

"He knows I can take care of myself."

"He also knows that a Human can't survive a fall like that," he pointed out.

I frowned at that, knowing very well what he was insinuating. "Well, it's a good thing for both of us that I'm not," I said before reaching up and jerking the tab that released the parachute cords from the harness. I dropped down the remaining 15 feet, hitting several more branches before landing flat on my back. A relief filled sigh left me when the snow pressed into the still open wound, the cold numbing the burn as it knit the torn muscle back together.

"El? Are you still alive?!" he called down.

I pulled in a grateful deep breath. "I'm alive. I'm just going to stay here till you climb down, okay?"

He chuckled at that. "Okay."

I watched him as he struggled down the tree, his shoes slipping on the bark. "Why are you wearing dress shoes?"

"Because I had dinner plans with a beautiful brunette," he answered, his foot slipping off the branch and sending him chest first into a lower one. "Oh god," he whimpered out.

"I'm sure she'll reschedule when you tell her you survived a plane crash," I told him. "You can even tell her that it's made you appreciate life and how short it is."

He grunted as he pulled himself onto the branch. "You make it sound like I'm going to propose to her."

"She'll think you are too," I said. "It'll make things easier for you."

"I thought you were against my womanizing ways?"

"If they can't see you coming then they deserve it," I stated.

He let out a sarcastic laugh. "Thank you, El, that makes it so much better."

I smiled at that. "You're very welcome, Howard," I said as I pushed myself up, the burn in my shoulder starting to fade. I looked back at the snow and found a rather large patch of red. "I've only worn the damn uniform twice and there's already a hole in it," I grumbled, twisting my right arm around my back to feel just how big said hole was. "There's no way they're not going to notice that," I sighed, tracing the fist sized hole.

"Just tell them it caught a branch and tore," Howard told me. "It's not exactly a lie."

"It will be when there's not even a scratch on me."

"You could always just tell them," he suggested.

I barked out a laugh. "Do you really see that going well?" I demanded. "'Fellas, the reason I didn't die is because I'm immortal. Oh, and while we're at it, my brother's one too!'" I exclaimed, glaring up at him. "Pull your head out of your ass, Howard, I can't tell them."

"Fine, we'll chalk it up to it being a miracle," he allowed before silently cursing when his foot slipping again and he was forced to the next branch. "And you're not immortal."

My eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"You have a hyperactive regenerative healing mutation with a dash of wolf DNA thrown into it," he explained. "It might take a few hundred years but you will die eventually."

"How much is a few hundred years?"

"Let's put it this way, you'll look 30 when you're 300."

Panic suddenly clenched at my heart. "What about Steve?"

Howard paused to look down at me. "What about Steve?"

"How long is he going to live?"

He hummed and thought about it for a moment. "Honestly, if he doesn't get himself killed his life span matches yours pretty closely," he answered, a small smile pulling at his lips. "So if you do decide to follow the whole 'true love' route and live happily ever after he won't die on you of old age."

His answer seemed to curb the panic. "That's not a false sense of security, is it?"

"El, I'll never give you a false sense of security about something like that," he told me, swinging down onto the last branch before letting himself fall to the ground. "It just had to snow, didn't it?" he asked.

"It's Germany, Howard, of course it snowed," I said, pushing myself to my feet and walking over to him. "Let me see you," I demanded, reaching for his head.

He allowed me my fussing and stood still as I checked him for any injuries.

"How does your head feel?" I asked, prodding at the cut above his eyebrow.

Howard hissed and slapped my hand away. "I'm a little dizzy but I think that's allowed after what just happened," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "You probably have a concussion," I mused.

"I'll be fine," he dismissed. "It's not like I could sleep out here anyways."

A snort left me. "You'll have to if you want to keep sane," I reminded him.

He grimaced.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. You've camped before, haven't you?"

"Once when I was a kid," he answered, "and I was chased by a bear."

It was sad that that didn't surprise me. "Well, the good news is that here you'll only have to worry about Nazis."

"Wow, that's a load off my mind," he snipped out.

I chuckled. "Oh you'll be fine," I assured him, undoing the parachute harness and letting it fall to the snow. I stepped out of it and kicked it further into the trees. "You're with the Mutant, remember?"

He nodded. "While I have complete faith in your abilities I would feel much better if I had a gun," he stated, looking me over before reaching out and snatching one my handguns from its thigh holster.

"Howard, you couldn't hit the broad side of barn if it was five feet in front of you. You're just going to hurt yourself," I stated, moving to take it back from him.

He let out a dramatic gasp and held the gun out of my reach. "El, I make these things for a living, I'm not going to hurt myself."

"You said the same thing about that flash grenade and you were blind for a week," I argued. "I am not carrying you when you shoot yourself in the foot."

He smirked at me. "You will and you know it."

I put on a smug look and crossed my arms over my chest. "So you are going to shoot yourself in the foot?"

He opened his mouth to answer but stopped when he realized what he had said.

"That's what I thought."

He huffed and tucked the gun into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Let's find out where we need to go."

After a few minutes of arguing over the map before we set off in the direction we thought we needed to go, trekking through the snow and trees. Howard had pulled his stolen gun out of his jacket and held it tightly in his hand, his eyes wide as they looked for any sign of danger. The whole thing was amusing and it was just the thing I needed to keep me from worrying about the others. While I knew that Steve and Jimmy would be just fine it was the rest of the Howling Commandos that had less of a chance. One of the few things on their side was the fact that they jumped when and where they were supposed to, putting them in the safest place.

"Steve and Jimmy couldn't have fallen that much farther from us," Howard suddenly stated, his voice quiet enough for just me to hear.

I glanced back at him. "They had longer air time than we did," I reminded him. "They'd land closer to the others than we would."

He nodded. "True, but they wouldn't just leave us."

"If they're smart they will," I stated.

"What?!"

I shushed him. "They'll head to the landing spot and wait to see if we make it. If we don't show up after an hour then they come looking for us. There's no reason for the entire team to be separated."

He seemed to pout at that but didn't complain.

I considered giving him a false sense of security but lost the thought when the sound of a snapping twig split the air. I grabbed hold of Howard's arm and pulled him towards me, flattening both of us against the trunk of a tree. Lifting my nose in the direction the sound had come from I pulled in a deep breath and cursed when it wasn't familiar. "Unfriendly," I breathed.

Howard had the common sense not to panic.

Clenching my right fist the bone spikes split my skin and extended out. "Grab a rock and throw it in front of us," I whispered, keeping an ear tuned to the foreign footsteps.

Howard crouched down and picked a decent sized stone. He pulled in a calming breath before chucking it back the way we had come.

The footsteps changed direction and started towards us in a cautious pace.

I held my breath as I waited, my arm raised at the ready. I swung myself around as soon as the man stepped level with the tree, my spikes entering his throat and through his spinal cord.

The usual choked gasping escaped him as he struggled to breath around the blood flooding his lungs and sudden inability to feel anything below his neck. Relaxing my hand the spikes retracted and he fell to the snow, his blood polluting its pristine color.

"Holy shit," Howard breathed, looking between me and the body. "Holy shit."

I chose to ignore him and reached down to grab a hand full of snow to wash the blood off my hand, the tears from the spikes already healed. "There's bound to be a few more, we better keep moving," I stated.

Howard swallowed hard and nodded, pushing himself back up. "That was, uh….terrifying and oddly reassuring," he told me.

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

* * *

"I knew you would carry me," Howard stated smugly.

I growled as I shifted his weight higher up on my shoulders. "And I knew you would hurt yourself," I stated back.

"But I didn't shoot myself in the foot," he countered.

"No, you stabbed yourself in the leg," I agreed. "Something you have still yet to explain," I reminded him.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Can't you just accept that it happened and move on?"

"Either you tell me or I make something up," I threatened, tightening my grip on him as I climbed over a fallen tree. "And my version will not be kind."

He groaned and went completely limp. "It happened when I rolled."

A snort of laughter left me at that and I nearly dropped him. "You mean you stabbed yourself when you tried to summersault away from the last Nazi?" I asked, having to stop as I struggled to stay upright through my laughter.

Howard grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

"That's so much better than what I could have come up with," I gasped out, my eyes watering before a tear streaked down my cheek. "Oh Jesus."

"I'm so glad that you can take pleasure from my pain," he deadpanned. "It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling where my stab wound is."

Another snort left me before I pulled in a deep calming breath, the air coming out in a stutter around suppressed laughs. "Oh, Howard, you are a doll," I stated before trekking forward.

"Thanks, El," he said, sounding as far from amused as one could get. "If you say anything to the others I'll tell them about the tabby cat."

I glared back at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"You know I would."

I sneered at that but knew he was right. "Fine," I agreed.

"Good. How much longer?"

I sighed and looked around us. "We should be right on top of it," I stated.

"Do you think they went looking for us?"

I shook my head. "We would have ran into them if they had," I reasoned, slowing till we were standing in the middle of a small clearing, the moon shining through and reflecting off the snow.

"Don't you and your brothers have a secret whistle or something?" he asked. "I mean, you guys lived in the woods didn't you?"

I shot him a glare but unfortunately he was right on both accounts. I leaned down and shifted Howard over far enough for him to stand on his own, the man hobbling slightly from him only having the use of one leg. Pulling in a deep breath I whistled out the tune my brothers and I had used since we were children, the sound splitting the stillness of the forest.

There was a moment of tension filled silence before the whistle was returned.

I let out a sigh as a smile stretched across my face. "Told ya we were close," I said before allowing myself to fall back into the snow, my arms and legs spread out.

"Really, El? Snow Angels?' Howard asked.

I let out a small giggle as I began to flap my arms and scissor my legs, effectively making a Snow Angel. "When was the last time you made one?"

Howard thought about it for a moment before shrugging and letting himself fall opposite me. "Ow," he deadpanned once he had settled. He let out a grunt as he began to move his arms and legs. "My angel's going to have a stab wound," he stated.

A snort of laughter left me at that. "And whose fault is that?"

"God's."

"So he's stabbing people now, huh?"

We both looked over to find Jimmy heading towards us, that cocky smirk on his face.

"Glad to see you're in one piece," I stated, pushing myself up and holding my hands out to him.

He chuckled and stopped in front of me. "Surprised you're the same," he admitted, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. "You two landed pretty hard."

"I got impaled," I told him.

His eyebrows shot up. "That's is?"

I wrinkled my nose at him. "What do you mean 'that's it'?" I demanded, leaning down to grab a hold of Howard's hands and pull him up as well. "I would consider almost drowning in my own blood 'traumatic' not 'that's it?'"

"You've had worse."

"The parachute caught in one of the trees, if Howard hadn't of been there I would have been stuck for hours," I told him. "I would be an immortal piñata."

Howard shook his head as he clutched to my arm to keep balance. "I already told you, El, you're not immortal," he stated.

I rolled my eyes. "And you also told me that I'm not going to look 30 till I'm 300," I reminded. "Someone who lives for that long of time and can't die by natural causes is an immortal."

"Technically, an immortal can't-"

"Why don't you two finish this fascinating conversation when we're not in enemy territory?" Jimmy suggested, giving both of us a pointed look. "Get a move on."

I silently berated myself so I looked back to Howard. "Do you want me to carry you or do you want to hobble?"

"I'll hobble, thank you," he answered, letting go of my arm and limping through the snow in the direction Jimmy had come from.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing.

"What the hell happened to him?" Jimmy asked, leaning over so he could whisper to me.

I considered telling him the truth but Howard's threat of telling the tabby cat story still held its weight. "Let's just say that he tried to be badass," I answered.

Jimmy didn't seem to need more information than that. A bright smile pulled at his lips as he shook his head. "What I would give to have seen that," he said.

"He's being a child," I muttered, looping my arm through Jimmy's and pulling him after the hobbling genius. "We're going to have to hold him down when I stitch him up."

"That's going to be a laugh and a half," he stated, allowing me to pull him along. "I thought your soldier was going to have a panic attack."

I looked up at him. "He's okay though, right?"

"He's not even dented," he assured me. "It took me nearly ten minutes to convince him to go to the landing point instead of finding you."

A frown pulled at my lips. "That's a problem."

Jimmy hummed in agreement. "You're both compromised," he mused. "You know, he wouldn't be so ready to arms if he knew that you can't actually die."

"I'm getting real tired of this conversation, Jimmy," I told him.

"He deserves to know, Lizzy."

"And you think I don't know that?!" I snapped, pulling my arm away from him. "You think that it doesn't bother me? That keeping something like this from him doesn't leave a bad taste in my mouth?!"

"Lizzy-"

"For the first time in my life I'm actually looking forward to the future," I said, my voice a harsh whisper. "And I know I am being extremely selfish by keeping this from him but I am terrified of what will happen when he finds out."

"What do you think will happen?" he demanded, his tone almost defensive.

"The same thing that happened with Mom."

The anger disappeared instantly and an expression of understanding remorse replaced it. "Oh, Lizzy."

"I can't see that look on his face," I stated, shaking my head. "I can't."

"I know," he said, bringing his arm up and around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. "I'm sorry, I'll stop pushing," he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I let out a calming sigh and curled my arm around his waist. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Amen to that, sister."


	8. Captain America Part 8

"Howard, if you don't sit still I will stab your other leg," I threatened, once again jerking my hands back as when his leg bounced.

He glared down at me. "It's an involuntary muscle spasm from the pain you're inflicting," he defended, his jaw clenched. "Isn't there an easier way to do this instead of you poking me with needles?"

I arched an eyebrow and dropped my head to the side. "Well, there is another way we could do it."

He nodded encouragingly.

"Well, we could just leave it, let it get infected and then amputate your leg from the hip down."

Howard looked close to throwing up.

"Do you want me to stitch it?" I asked.

"If you don't mind," he answered, his voice weak.

I nodded and looked back down to the still gaping wound. "Smart decision," I mused, pinching the skin together. "It would only take till the morning for it to be infected and we don't have a bone saw so we would have to cut around the bone before breaking it. A wound like that would hemorrhage so we would have to burn it closed which would send you into shock and then…" I trailed off as I watched his eyes roll back into his head. "There we go," I said, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from falling off the rock her was perched on.

A chuckle sounded from behind me. "That wasn't very nice, Ellie."

I couldn't help but smile. "He wasn't going to sit still," I stated. "I had to pull a piece of glass out of his foot once and he passed out and hit his head on one of the tables," I explained, resisting the urge to laugh at the memory of the great Howard Stark screaming at his blood covered hand.

Steve laughed and walked over to grab Howard's shoulders for me. "Not much of a fighter is he?" he asked, a wide smile on his face.

A burst of laughter left me as I shook my head. "Oh no, he can fight," I assured him.

"I feel like there's a story there."

"In the two years that we've known each other we've gotten into more bar fights than either of us care to admit. There are a lot of stories."

"Bar fights? You gotta tell me at least one," he reasoned, putting on a rather impressive pouting face.

I sighed and thought for a moment, trying to decide which of the many times wouldn't get me in too much trouble. "Alright, fine," I allowed. "I was in this speakeasy in Manhattan, one of the places where you can wave to the police commissioner and the mayor at the same time, you know?"

He nodded.

"Well, I managed to get a spot at the bar and was about to order a drink when I felt something on my ass," I said, smiling lightly when Steve's face reddened, "so I look back and I find this hand that wasn't mine. So I asked the fella to my right is it was his and he said 'no' so I turned to the fella to my left and asked him. He claimed full ownership of the hand and I told him that if he wanted to keep it then he would have to move it. He laughed it off, called me 'sweetheart' or 'sweetcheeks' or something like that. Now, I was upset-"

"Damn right you were upset," Steve agreed, the blush gone and outrage in its place.

I gave him an appreciative smile. "I was about to break his wrist when Howard appears out of nowhere. I had spent most of the night trying to avoid the man and his flirting so I wasn't really interested in hearing what he had to say. That was, until, he went off in speech about respecting woman's rights and their consent. I was completely surprised."

"I'd be surprised too," Steve agreed, his attention on the still unconscious Howard.

"The fella wasn't having any of it and told Howard where we could shove it. Next thing I know Howard's hauling him towards the back door. Normally that would be my cue to go but the man was defending my honor so I felt obligated to at least take him to the hospital when it was over."

"Yeah, I've been there," he mused. "Did he win?"

"Now, that's a matter of opinion," I stated. "Yes, he did knock the guy out but he also threw up all over his white tuxedo."

A snort of laughter left him. "Oh God," he groaned. "I-uh-I think he won on principle," he answered. "He did defend your honor, after all."

I nodded in agreement. "True, true, but the two hours before that he was religiously trying to talk me into sleeping with him."

Steve's smile instantly dropped.

"Do not say 'fonduing'," I warned.

His eyebrows shot up and he had the common sense to look embarrassed. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Never," I agreed, turning my attention back to Howard's leg, grimacing slightly when it started to bleed again.

Steve watched me work for a moment before clearing his throat. "Uh, Ellie…."

"Yeah, solider?" I questioned.

"Are you sure you're-"

"For the last time, Steve, I'm fine," I interrupted, pausing to smile up at him. "Just a few bumps and bruises."

The worry didn't leave his face. "But, Ellie, you fell-"

"Howard fell too and he's just fine," I stated, gesturing to him.

He arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly to the wound. "He was stabbed."

"Yes, but that was his own fault," I reminded him.

"It was?" Steve asked, confusion replacing concern.

Realization hit me and I pointed the needle up to him. "If you tell him I said that I will sew those gorgeous lips shut."

A light pink flushed across his cheeks and a goofy grin stretched across his face. "Gorgeous, huh?"

"Have you looked in a mirror?" I asked him. "There isn't a part of that face that isn't gorgeous."

His blush darkened and an almost nervous chuckle left him. "Well, uh, it's nothing compared to your face," he stated before his expressions screwed up. "I mean, you're gorgeous too and your face is also….." he trailed off with a groan.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Even after I just fell out of a plane and my hair looks like a pair of pigeons nested in it?"

His embarrassed expression lessened at that. "Ellie, you could have a whole coup of pigeons in your hair and you would still be the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen."

It took nearly everything I had not to march over to him and plant a big one on those gorgeous lips I had threatened.

"Ellie?" he asked after a moment of my silent staring.

I snapped out of it and cleared my throat. "You are very lucky that we are in a war zone, solider, otherwise I would be doing some very inappropriate things to you right now."

It was his turn to silently stare.

Bucky's laughter rang out behind me. "Have I ever told you how glad I am you're here, Lizbeth?" he asked.

I looked back at him and smiled. "No, but it's implied, Buchanan," I assured him.

He nodded appreciatively and went back to the map in front of him.

With one last glance up at Steve I went back to work on Howard's leg. With the efficiency I gained during the Civil War I closed the stab wound and tied the thread off. I grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the first aid kit and poured some over the line of stitches. I cringed at the clinical smell and quickly screwed it closed before grabbing the cotton square and a roll of gauze.

Timothy let out a snort. "You're not seriously going to wrap that over his pants, are you?" he asked.

I let out a frustrated sigh and glared at him. "There are three options. One, I cut the pant leg off and in light of the fit he threw about me making the already existing hole bigger, that would not go over well. Two, I take his pants off and since me taking his pants off is one of the things he's been trying to do since I met him, that's also a not going to happen. Three, I wrap the wound over the pant leg and he has absolutely nothing to bitch about. Which would you pick?"

Timothy cleared his throat and nodded. "Option three sounds just fine," he answered.

I nodded with him and turned back to Howard. Pressing the cotton square to the stab wound I wrapped the gauze around his leg, pants and all. I tied it off as tight as I dared and set to work cleaning the cut above his eyebrow. "So, soldier, what's the plan?" I asked, looking pointedly to Steve.

The Super Soldier let out a sigh as he looked down at Howard. "Well, I was going to suggest that he went with us but now…" he trailed off, looking pointedly to his leg.

I chuckled lightly and shook my head. "Yeah, he would be pretty useless," I agreed. "Do we stash him up in a tree somewhere?"

"We could."

"Lash him to a branch and hope the squirrels don't get to him before we get back."

"They might think he's a nut and try to eat him."

"Well, they wouldn't be wrong about the nut part and I know for a fact that he doesn't taste that good."

"You bit him."

"He pulled my hair."

"Acceptable response."

"Do you always talk about me when I'm unconscious?"

I smiled and looked down to Howard who was currently glaring at me. "Hello, bright eyes."

"You made me pass out," he accused.

I gasped dramatically. "I would never!" I exclaimed. "How dare you insinuate that I would ever do something so dastardly to my-"

He pulled a face. "Oh just stop," he said, reaching up to push my hands away.

"Come on, admit it, you're glad you weren't awake for it," I prodded.

He continued to glare.

I chuckled lightly and ruffled his hair. "And no, we don't always talk about you when you're unconscious," I told him. "We were trying to decide what we were going to do with you while we're storming the factory. It was either stash you in a tree for the squirrels to eat or leave you out in the open for the Nazis to find."

Howard blinked at me several times before he looked up to Steve. "Tell me she's kidding," he pleaded.

Steve managed to keep a straight face as he clapped Howard on the shoulder. "It's your choice, pal."

"You're both terrible," he stated, pushing himself up from the rock and limping over to the others. "Any of you got a radio on you?"

They all shook their heads.

Howard nodded in understanding. "Well, we're all doomed."

I rolled my eyes and started repacking the first aid kit. "We'll just take a truck from the factory and drive back."

He spun around to face me. "Oh, so you're not going to blow this one up?"

"This is why I never take you anywhere," I mused, zipping it up and walking back over to Jim. "How about for once in your life  _you_  just stand there and look pretty while the professionals do their job."

"Ooooh," the others chorused together, looking to Howard with wide smiles.

He shot each of them a glare. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Oh don't worry about it, doll, I'm sure you'll get it eventually," I assured him.

His face went blank as he figured it out. "Funny, El."

"I thought so."

* * *

I always found winter in Germany beautiful, especially at night. The moon bounced off the smooth plains of white powder, reflecting enough light to render the need for flashlights inept. The trees were skeleton bare and casted shadows that usually fueled children's nightmares. The fairytale nuances of it always gave me a this-is-anything-but-real-life feeling.

Steve was walking in front of me, his considerably larger feet making a better path through the shin high snow than mine would have. He showed no signs of the cold bothering him like it was the others, no under the breath shuttering or the occasional shiver when a particularly chilly breeze swept through. Instead, his head was held high and his shoulders were squared with that determined posture he's seemed to have his whole life. His shield was suspended on his back, the clever magnet fixture Howard had thought of keeping it in its place. I knew, while designing it, that Steve would be able to get his whole body behind the shield if he really wanted to but seeing it like this did I realize it was the exact width of his shoulders. I also realized how slim his waist was.

A subtle curse sounded behind me and I looked back, not at all surprised to find that Howard had slipped and rammed into Jimmy who was now holding him up, sporting the same concerned expression as he had this morning.

* * *

_"Didn't sleep, huh?"_

_I looked up to find Jimmy standing opposite me, an accusing and concerned look on his face. "What makes you say that?" I questioned, raising myself a little straighter._

_He raised an eyebrow as he took one of the many vacant seats. "Well, that's your fifth cigarette this hour," he noted, gesturing to the overflowed ash tray to my right," and you haven't even pretended to eat," he continued, pointing to my untouched tray of mystery breakfast, "plus you've been staring at that folder like it's going to jump up and bite you," he stated, nodding to the army green folder trapped under my left hand._

_I looked back to said folder and my stomach knotted all over again. I brought my forgotten cigarette to my mouth and pulled in a long drag. "They're the pictures I took," I told him. "Howard insisted on helping me develop them. He threw up."_

_Jimmy seemed to know better than to laugh. "That bad, huh?" he asked, reaching over to them._

_My fingers clawed as I jerked them back. "Don't."_

_He let out a frustrated sigh. "Lizzy, let me see," he demanded._

_"You don't want to."_

_"Yes I do," he argued, pushing my hand away and snatching the folder up. "If I'm going to help you then I have to know."_

_I pulled in another drag and allowed the smoke to seep out through my teeth, distorting my view of Jimmy as he looked at the pictures._

_He cleared his throat as he flipped through them, his eyes narrowed as he took in the details. "Jesus," he growled out._

_I grimaced and looked back down at my 'breakfast'._

_"The bodies looked like this?"_

_I hummed in agreement._

_"Fuck," he said, dropping the folder back to the table. "I'm going to rip this assholes throat out."_

_"Get in line," I told him as I put my cigarette out in what were supposed to look like scrambled eggs. "Chester's put us in charge of him," I stated. "He's our responsibility now."_

_He didn't seem too surprised. "And the others? What do they know?"_

_I shrugged. "They're being told that it's classified. We don't have to tell them anything we don't have to."_

_"Good," he grumbled with a nod. "What course of action are you thinking of?"_

_"If we don't catch him at the next factory then we grab a few Hydra agents and we ask them a few questions."_

_He chuckled. "We better grab a few then," he stated._

_"Shouldn't be too hard."_

_Jimmy nodded and pushed the folder further back to me. "What do you think he's trying to do?"_

_"Figure out how we work, I suppose," I guessed, my lips curling in disgust. "They never really need a reason."_

_"No, I don't suppose they do," he agreed. "We're going to get him, Lizzy."_

_"Damn right we are."_

* * *

My stomach rolled as the photos flashed through my head, a part of me hoping that the whole thing would end with this factory and another hoping that there was nothing at all, that the last factory was the only lab. I honestly didn't want to find another set of bodies.

Steve slowed as the trees started to thin and the lights from the factory began to shin through. He motioned for us to gather round as he crouched by a cluster of overgrowth. He waited for everyone to settle before speaking. "Ellie and Jimmy are going in first," he stated, giving the men a look that left no room for argument. "They have thirty minutes to get what they need before we come in and the place goes live."

We all nodded.

"We need a couple Hydra agents captured, also," I added almost off handedly. "At least two."

"Why?" Timothy questioned, looking concerned.

I flashed him a smile. "That's classified."

Now they all looked concerned.

Steve glanced at the others before addressed Jimmy and I. "Your time starts now," he told us.

Jimmy nodded and took off towards the back of the factory.

I paused long enough to lean over and press a kiss to Steve's forehead before I followed after Jimmy.

* * *

I resisted the urge to throw up as the smell slammed into me once again, my hand flying up to cover my nose and mouth despite knowing it wouldn't really help.

"Jesus," Jimmy hissed, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he walked further into the room, towards the freezers that sickeningly weren't humming. He caught sight of them and wandered over, appearing almost hesitant as he pulled open the closest door. He flinched back when the stronger smell hit him, his hand coming up to mirror mine.

"Same as the last time," I mused, turning my attention away from the bodies and over to the desk sitting in the same place as the one at the last factory. The surface was just a littered with papers and books, all sporting dates to the previous months. "He hasn't been here for a while," I stated, gathering every last scrap into a neat pile. "I think he's moving from factory to factory, leaving behind anything he doesn't deem important to his research," I suggested, frowning at the mere amount of work left, "which seems to be everything."

"He's gotta be looking for something specific," he stated as he pulled open another freezer. "It's all the same wounds, the same autopsies."

"I noticed that last time," I said. "He does experiments based on their mutations when they're alive but it's the same post mortem dissection. You would think he would deviate."

He hummed in agreement as he pulled open the next. "Wow."

My eyebrows furrowed and I walked over to him.

The body was a bright red with eyes the color of sulfur. The autopsy cuts were puckered with what appeared to be pink foam.

I found the test subject number and rushed back to the desk to find the corresponding file. "'Autopsy incomplete due to acidic corrosive plasma disintegrating medical tools'," I read. "'It appears to be a defense mechanism active even post mortem'."

"Acidic corrosive plasma?" Jimmy repeated, reaching over to poke at the foam only to have him jerk it back, his finger tip sizzling as it was eaten away.

"That's amazing," I found myself saying.

Jimmy shot me a look. "Sure feels amazing," he growled as his bone began to grown back. "How come it ain't eating her?" he demanded, nodding to the body.

"She must be immune," I reasoned. "It wouldn't make sense for a defense mechanism to hurt the host."

He scoffed. "Our defense mechanism hurts," he argued.

"True, but it doesn't eat us alive," I pointed out before worriedly looking to my watch. "We have fifteen minutes," I stated. "Take pictures of every body and I'll grab the research," I told him before running back to the desk.

The sound of the camera clicking urged me on as I stuffed the papers into a dusty file box I had found. Sealing it with the TOP SECRET tape Chester had supplied me with I slid it towards the door and turned my attention to the rest of the room.

"Do you think they're related?" Jimmy suddenly asked.

"It's possible," I allowed, pulling open yet another empty filing cabinet. "It seems too much like a coincidence to have two Schmidt's together but it is a common name."

"We'll see if the agents know," he mused as he snapped the last photo. "Do you think they'll talk?"

"They won't have much of a choice."

"What are-"

He was cut off when a commotion sounded through the stone floor followed by gunfire and shouting.

"That's our cue," I said, looking to the stairwell that led back to the factory floor.

"Let's get to work."

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I let out a frustrated sigh when he asked the question once again.

During the scrimmage a Hydra agent had managed to slice the side of my neck open, my blood drenching everything below the wound in a deep red. In an attempt to make it look less suspicious I had smeared the blood up my neck. Steve was the only one who wasn't completely convinced it wasn't mine.

"Yes, Steve, I'm sure I'm okay," I told him, looking up to him with an expression of annoyance.

He seemed to realize how he was asking and took a small step away from me. "Sorry, sorry, it's just…." he trialed off and shook his head. "Sorry."

A twinge of regret pricked at me and I found the urge to apologize nearly compulsorily but I managed to stop myself. Why should I apologize? He was annoying me, he was being overbearing, he was refusing to listen. Although in his defense I was lying to him and my flippant reaction to potential life threatening injuries was probably driving him crazy.

I decided it was a tie of bullshit.

"We got your hostages," Timothy called, breaking the tension filled silence.

I looked over to where he and the others were standing to find two Hydra on their knees, their hands tied behind their backs and gages tied tight enough to wedge their jaws open. "Thank you, boys," I praised, stepping over to them, my hand pulling my knife free. "Guten Abend!" I exclaimed, smiling at them.

They glared at me.

I nodded to myself and reached out to the closest one. "Wenn Sie mich beißen Ich werde deine Zunge herausschneiden," I warned, loosening the gage. I slipped the fabric out and quickly replaced it with hand, my fingers forcing his bottom jaw down. "Welches ist das Selbstmord Zahn?" I asked, inserting the knife. "Dieses hier?" I questioned, tapping the left back molar.

He didn't flinch.

"Dieses hier?" I continued, moving the knife to the opposite molar.

He twitched.

My smile widened. "There it is," I mused before digging the knife in at the root and wiggling it.

Muffled screams left the Hydra agent as the tooth came loose and blood pooled in his mouth.

I clamped the knife handle between my own teeth as I reached in and pulled the tooth free. A bright smile stretched across my face as grabbed the knife from my mouth. "Danke," I told him, tossing the tooth over my shoulder before shoving the gage into his mouth, hoping it would soak up some of the blood. "Jetzt bist du dran," I said, addressing the second Hydra Agent.

His eyes widened but he didn't lean away from me, muffled German emitting from around the gage.

My eyebrows furrowed. "Was?" I asked, jerking his gage free enough for him to speak better.

"Gleiche Zahn," he repeated.

I pointed the knife to the whimpering man beside him.

He nodded.

"Danke," I said, pulling the gage the rest of the way out and giving him the same treatment as his friend, this time perhaps a little kinder.

"Couldn't use plyers, could you?" Falsworth asked, sounding slightly nauseous.

I shook my head as I held the tooth up to him. "I would have crushed it and released the cyanide," I explained. "That would kind of defeat the purpose of me taking them out."

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Of course," he agreed, attempting to sound more understanding that he actually was.

I smirked to myself and turning my attention back to the Hydra agents. "Wer von euch kennt den Keller?"

The cooperative one furrowed his eyebrows while the other seemed to panic further.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" I explained, pointing to the terrified one. "Jimmy, let's show him what he's won!"

My brother strode forward and hauled the agent to his feet, dragging him towards the stairway that went to the basement.

The agent struggled against him, his shouts of protest muffled.

"How much time do you need?"

My attention snapped over to Steve when he spoke and I couldn't help but feel slightly surprised. In a way he was condoning torture. "Half an hour at the most," I answered, clearing my throat. "I doubt he'll be able to answer most of our questions."

He nodded in understanding before looking back to the other agent. "What do you want to do with him?"

"Take him back with us," I stated. "He might not know anything about my questions but he might be able to answer some of yours."

A small smile twitched at his lips. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," I mused, binging my hand up to rest on his shoulder as I walked past him. My shoes echoed on the stairs as I went back down to the basement.

The terrified Hydra agent was kneeling in the middle of the room, his back hunched as he retched. Jimmy was leaning against the operating table, his nose wrinkled in disgust as he watched the man.

"Didn't last a minute," he told me.

I cringed at that. "Do you think he's going to be of any use?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "I'm pretty sure he would tell us anything we want to know to get out of here," he mused.

"Suppose that's true," I agreed, before stepping as close to the man as I dared. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

He retched again before looking up at me. "Yes."

I couldn't help but beam at that. "Brilliant!" I exclaimed. "We are going to ask you a few questions and you are going to answer them the best you can."

He nodded.

"Do you know who Klaus Schmidt is?"

He nodded. "He is scientist."

"Yes, we already know that," I mused. "Is he related to Johan Schmidt?"

His eyes shot wide. "The Red Skull?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, The Red Skull."

"I do not know."

Sadly I believed him.

"How long was he here?"

He thought for a moment. "Few months, I am not sure," he answered hesitantly.

"Do you know where he is now?"

He shook his head. "Why would I know that?"

I reached out and smacked the side of his head. "Watch your attitude," I warned him. "When did he leave?"

"The smell started a week ago," he answered, his eyes shifting over to look at the freezers. His back arched again and he dry heaved, a gagging sound escaping him.

I cringed again and looked away, the smell from his sick not helping the aroma of the room. "What does he do down here?"

He gave me an incredulous look. "You don't know?" he questioned before jerking his head back to the freezers. "Have you not seen?"

I pursed my lips. "Where does he get his test subjects?"

"They are brought to him. One at a time."

"Who brings them to him?"

He shook his head with a groan. "He has his own men," he explained. "They travel with him."

"And you don't know where he is?" Jimmy spoke up.

"Why would I know that?" he asked again, glaring at my brother.

I smacked him again and gave him a warning expression. "Why do you know about what he does?"

A suffering sigh left him and he seemed to slump further into the floor. "Once they went down the stairs they did not come back," he explained, "and sometimes we could not drown out the screaming."

My stomach twisted and the urge to rip his throat out grew stronger. "Why did he leave all his research behind?"

He shrugged the best he could. "I could not tell you, but he left in a rush."

"You don't know why?"

He shook his head. "He rarely left…" he trailed off to look around him, "here."

"And none of his experiments ever made it out alive?" I asked, a small sliver of hope growing at the thought of at least someone managing to make it out.

He shook his head again. "Not that I know of," he answered. "We would have been told to retrieve it."

A growl ripped from Jimmy. "It?" he demanded.

The man chuckled. "You have seen the bodies, they are not human," he explained. "What else are we to call them?"

"They're not animals."

"They are not?" he demanded.

"No."

"Could have fooled me," he stated with a twisted smile.

Jimmy lunged forward and with a well-practiced upper cut drove his spikes up into the man's head.

A frustrated sigh left me as the agent fell to the floor, his blood pooling and mixing with the vomit. "Was that really necessary?"

A huffed growl left him as he retracted his spikes. "He couldn't have told us anything else," he stated.

I raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"I know so."

I nodded slowly. "And it had nothing to do with him calling us animals?"

"Nope."

"Okay," I allowed, knowing I wasn't going to get an admission from him and looked to my watch. "Fifteen minutes, that's gotta be a record."

"Don't push it, Lizzy," he warned, wiping the blood off on his jacket. "Grab what we need and take it up to the truck. I'm going to start dousing the place."

I pursed my lips and watched him walked back over to the freezers. I entertained the thought of doing just what he had told me not to do but I reminded myself of the long drive back we would have and decided better. With another sigh I walked over to Klaus Schmidt's desk and grabbed the box of research. "Let me check with Steve before you actually light anything, okay?"

"Fine."

I made quick work of the stairs and stepped out into the factory floor.

"That wasn't half an hour," Steve mused when he spotted me.

A humorless laugh left me as I shook my head. "He pissed off Jimmy," I told him.

That seemed to surprise everyone.

"Seriously?" Jim questioned, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

"His anger management issues are worse than mine," I informed him. "I would have at least dragged it out."

A shocked laugh left Gabe. "You're a little sadistic, aren't you?"

"There's nothing wrong in taking some pleasure in your work," I stated, heading over to the truck and setting the box in the back. "Hallo!" I greeted when I spotted the other Hydra agent huddled in the far corner of the truck bed, once again gagged and tied.

He nodded to me.

"Jimmy's itching to burn the basement so I would suggest getting everything important packed," I added, not bothering to leave the annoyance out of my tone. "I really don't want to be here when this place turns into Dante's Inferno."

Steve nodded with a subtle smirk. "Give us the rest of your half hour," he told me.

"Aye, aye, Captain," I agreed, tossing him a salute as I headed back towards the stairs.

He reached out and caught my arm. "Ellie, is it…" he trailed off with a grimace. "Is it the same as last time?"

I almost thought about lying but knew it wouldn't do any good. "It is."

He stepped closer to me. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," I assured him, reaching up to pat his cheek before pulling away and going back down the stairs. "The Captain's requested fifteen minutes before you torch it," I said, scanning the room for my brother. "Jimmy?"

"Over here!" he called from the far right corner.

My eyebrows furrowed and I walked over to him, a little surprised to find him crouched over burlap sacks. "What'd you find?"

"It's their things," he answered, nudging one of the bags towards me.

I crouched down beside him and looked in it, my heart dropping when I saw the clothes and jewelry bundled inside. I reached in and pulled out a silver locket. I popped it open and pulled in a sharp breath at the sight of the two pictures inside. "She had two kids," I said.

"He was married," Jimmy told me, holding up a gold band.

"Everyone's things are here?"

He nodded.

"We should take them with us," I told him. "Send them back to their families."

"And tell them what?" he asked with a hollow laugh.

"The truth."

He watched me for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll help you take 'em up," he said, grabbing as many as he could before getting to his feet.

I grabbed what was left and followed after him.

"What are those?" Timothy questioned once we reached the top of the stairs.

"Classified. Don't touch 'em," Jimmy told him, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Timothy threw his hands up. "Wouldn't dream of it."

I flashed him an apologetic look. "Please don't touch them," I rephrased.

He nodded. "Can do."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

I pulled in a sharp calming breath and let it out slowly, my hands tightening on the wheel. "For the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes, no, Howard, we are not there yet," I answered, making an extra effort to keep my voice even.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Really sure?"

"Howard," I warned.

He scoffed. "I'm sorry that I don't want to die in enemy territory."

"I'm with Howard," Timothy spoke up. "I fell like a sitting duck in this thing."

"It's not really stealthy, is it?" Jim agreed.

"They'll hear us coming miles off," Gabe added.

"It's not even that sporting," Falsworth pouted.

"That is it!" I yelled before my foot slammed onto the brake, throwing us into a sudden, lurching stop.

Shouts of outrage and pain erupted from the men as they were thrown forward. Steve seemed to have predicted my reaction and braced his hands on the dash board, remaining stationary in the passenger's seat.

I spun around and glared at the men. "So help me God, if you do not shut up I will turn this truck around and you can walk back!" I snapped.

Several of them blinked at me before they looked over to Steve.

He gave them a pointed look. "Boys, listen to your mother."

There was a tense moment of almost laughter, the men looking back to me to see if now Steve, too, was in trouble. In another situation and with another group I would have ripped their heads off. But I was with the Howling Commandos in enemy territory and Captain America just made a joke.

"Oh my God," I said before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Soon the whole truck was laughing, excluding the bound and gagged Hydra agent who was watching us with a terrified expression.

I pulled in a calming breath and turned back around in my seat. "Honestly though, if you lot don't shut up I will leave you here," I stated.

They sobered almost instantly. "Sorry, Eleanor," they chorused.

I nodded to myself and forced the truck into the right gear before forcing it to continue down the dirt road.

* * *

I squinted through the windshield at the near pitch black in front of me, the headlights only allowing a few feet of dim clarity. I frowned and glancing at the back, some relief appearing when I found them all asleep. I turned my attention to Steve who was nose deep in a map, attempting to find a new route in the darkness. "Where are we?" I asked, taking care to keep my voice low.

A frustrated sigh left him as he moved the map closer to his face. "Honestly, I'm not sure," he answered.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course," I muttered. "We're not completely lost, are we?"

He shook his head. "I have a general idea but that's not really going to help us," he told me.

"But if I stay on this road then we'll get there eventually, right?"

"Technically yes."

"Well that's a start," I allowed.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he groaned, lowering the map and running a hand across his face.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched him. "Please tell me that you are not apologizing for not knowing our pinpoint location on a dirt road in the middle of Germany."

He looked over at me, a smile of his own playing at his lips. "I might be."

A snort of laughter left me and I found myself reaching up to brush his disheveled hair off his forehead. "You can't be responsible for everything, you know," I told him.

"Maybe," he agreed, catching my hand, "but I sleep better at night when I am."

"You can sleep with all that stress?" I questioned, actively not making a big deal out of how he threaded out fingers together.

He shrugged lightly. "I know that things get done right," he explained. "That things are taken care of."

"You know, you have grunts to do those things for you," I reminded him, nodding to the back of the truck where seven of the 'grunts' were sleeping.

He glanced back and chuckled. "No offense to the fellas but…." He trialed off, shaking his head.

"You're a bit obsessive, aren't you?" I mused, finding it surprisingly endearing.

"When it comes to things like this," he said, gesturing out the windshield to the dark landscape, "yeah, I guess I am. I mean, what kind of captain am I if I get my team lost in enemy territory?"

"Let's set some things straight before you send yourself off into a guilt ridden spiral," I started, "the plane crashing was entirely out of your control. Howard stabbing himself was technically my fault because I let him have the knife-"

"He stabbed himself?" Steve asked, the excitement in his tone unmistakable.

I shot him a warning look. "I will still sew your lips shut," I threatened.

"My gorgeous lips?"

Hearing the tease I put a show on having to think about it. "Did I say gorgeous?" I asked.

His smile faltered slightly. "Yes?"

I tilted my head to the side as I looked his face over. "I thought I said perfect?"

He hid the realization well. "While perfect is still flattering I'm pretty sure you said gorgeous," he assured me. "I remember because after you said that I stuttered my way through a compliment reciprocating that very word."

I scrunched up my face in thought. "Right, you said that I could have a whole coup of pigeons in my hair and I would still be the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen."

He blushed but didn't back down. "Yes, that is exactly what I said," he agreed. "And I still stand by that."

"Good, because if things continue the way they are I'm going to look like a homeless woman more times than not," I told him before clearing my throat. "We got distracted. Where was I? I ended with gorgeous lips so that would take us to…me snapping at you after we took the factory."

He shook his head. "No, Ellie, you don't have to apologize for that," he told me, his hand squeezing mine.

"No, I do," I insisted. "Because if your parachute had failed or your neck was covered in blood I would react the same way and I know that you wouldn't dismiss me the way I dismissed you," I said, hating how shitty that actually sounded. "I really am sorry, Steve. It's an excuse but I'm not used to someone being so worried about me."

He frowned at that. "Your bother worries about you."

I pursed my lips and gave a nod. "To an extent but we all know that we can take care of ourselves," I said. "I mean, I don't even know where Victor is right now but I know he's okay."

"You're not worried about him?"

I shook my head. "No and if you knew Victor then you would understand. We're not a family of worriers. We've survived too much to be," I told him, waving him off. "All I'm saying is that whenever I do something stupid or reckless and you show concern I might not always respond in the appropriate way," I explained. "I wish that wasn't the case but it is and I'm going to apologize now for any future breaches of etiquette."

He arched an eyebrow. "Breaches of etiquette?" he asked with a laugh. "Ellie, did it ever occur to you that maybe I like your breaches of etiquette?"

I let out a snort of laughter. "You'd be the first," I informed him. "I know we've established that we're not like most people but some of the things I do completely ignore human decency."

It was his time to laugh. "Human decency isn't really your style."

I had the common sense to be slightly offended. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

He seemed to realize his wording and became slightly panicked. "I didn't mean it like-it's not an insult its-" he cut off with a sigh. "I just meant that you don't fit into what people expect you to be."

"And that's a good thing?"

"That is an amazing thing."

An almost uncomfortable amount of appreciation filled me and I found myself at a loss for words. I hoped, however, that my face splitting smile and the kiss I pressed to the back of his hand expressed just that.

* * *

We made it to the camp faster than either Steve or I had thought we would, the map once again dragged out and scrutinized over before confirming that it was the right camp. The soldiers greeted us with surprising enthusiasm and an even more shocking respect of privacy. After much protesting and insistence we were given two tents, all ten of us agreeing that it would be enough space for all of us. Honestly, we were just happy to be out of the truck.

Another kindness we were shown were some of the nurses volunteered to wash our clothes, giving us a lecture on proper hygiene. When they got to me I was shown an overabundance of sympathy and offered several options to replace my uniform while they tried to get the blood out. After turning down several silk nightgowns I took a pair of pink cotton pajamas with a promise to get her Steve's autograph. My tentmates, Steve, Jimmy, Howard, and Buchanan, teased me relentlessly about the color only a well-placed threat of shaved heads getting them to shut up.

* * *

_I was strapped to the table again, my arms and legs cuffed with chaffing metal while my head we held down with a worn leather strap. The smell of old blood and bleach hung in the air like an ominous fog. A broken record played softly in the background, the tune interrupted by the scattered sounds of chinking metal._

" _Good morning, fraulein!"_

_If it was possible my stomach twisted tighter._

" _I was hoping you would wake soon," Dr. Zola said, his face suddenly appearing above me. "It really is no fun when you are not awake to enjoy it."_

_I forced myself to smile. "How kind of you to wait for me," I said, my eyes dropping down to the scalpel clutched in his fat hand. "You really didn't have to do that."_

_"Ah, but I did, fraulein," he all but cooed. "It is just not right when you do not scream. Is that not right, Dr. Schmidt?"_

_A new face appeared above me, his features distorted by shadows, the only thing visible his wide smile. "That is correct, Dr. Zola," he said, his voice muffled. "Are you ready to begin?"_

_"After you," Dr. Zola instructed._

_"Gladly," Dr. Schmidt said._

_The sound of metal sliding through bone drowned out the record and suddenly there was a butcher's knife protruding from my chest._

* * *

I jerked awake with a gasp, my hand flying up to grab the knife only for it to slap flat against my chest. I hunched myself forward and ran a shaky hand through my tangled hair. I forced myself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Lizzy?"

I looked over and found Jimmy watching me with hat usual knowing expression of his. "I'm fine, go back to sleep," I whispered, managing a small smile.

"Lizzy."

I sighed and shook my head. "It was just a bad dream, Jimmy, I'll be fine," I assured him, tossing my blankets back and slipping on my boots.

"Where you going?"

"Just for a walk. Go back to sleep," I told him, getting up and slipping out the door. My breath puffed out as soon as I was outside and a shutter ran through me. Deciding against going back in to grab a jacket I started down the trail, on alert for the MP's. Not wanting to take the chance of being picked off by a sniper I stuck to camp and soon found myself outside the chapel. I hesitated, my eyes glued to the cross on the door.

"Ellie?"

I jumped and spun around, not really surprised to find Steve standing behind me. "What are you doing out here?"

He gave me an unamused look. "That's my line," he said before pulling his coat off and stepping closer to me. "Ellie, it's freezing out here, what were you thinking?" he asked, settling the coat around my shoulders.

I sighed and slipped my arms into the sleeves, internally amused by how they reached the tips of my fingers. "I guess I wasn't really thinking," I mused.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his hands running up and down my arms.

I shrugged the best I could and shook my head. "I can't sleep."

Concern crossed his face and he hunched down just enough to look me straight in the eye. "Ellie, I didn't believe you the first time you told me that."

I resisted the urge to pout. "It's not a complete lie," I defended. "It's just not the whole truth."

"And what is the whole truth?" he asked, the sincerity in his almost unnerving.

"I can't tell you the whole truth," I said, regretting the words instantly.

"Then tell me what you can."

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't like being helpless."

His eyebrows raised and shock replaced the concern. "What? Ellie, you're not helpless."

"I am sometimes," I told him. "I accept that there are things out of my control but I can't accept that those things happen."

He was quiet for a moment. "The basements?" he asked cautiously.

"They're part of it," I allowed. "I've always had a certain amount of faith in humanity. A belief that there was a balance between all the shit and the decent things that happen. Hydra is upsetting that balance and it's making me feel helpless. Among other things."

"But you are doing something," he stated, his fingers curling around my upper arms. "Ellie, you're a Howling Commando, you're going to have a hand in bringing down Hydra," he told me.

"It doesn't change the things they're done already," I countered.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, bringing his hands up to cradle my face, "but it gives justice to the people they've hurt and it stops them from hurting more."

A lump formed in my throat as the faces of the Mutants surfaced. I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay, wanting nothing more than to not cry in front of Captain America. "Remember how you said that I could hug you anytime I wanted?" I asked, straining to keep my voice even.

Surprisingly he got the hint and within seconds his arms were wrapped around me.

I leaned into him, my arms coming up to encircle his waist while I pressed my face into his shoulder. I allowed myself a moment of deep breathing before I shifted my head to the side. "This is becoming a habit," I mused.

He let out a deep sigh and tightened his arms around me. "I happen to like it," he told me. "It's….really the only time we have alone together."

I found myself smiling. "Stolen moments."

"Stolen moments," he agreed before lowering his head and pressing a kiss to my temple. "Are you going to be okay?"

"We ask that question a lot, don't we?" I chuckled.

"It's a relevant question," he defended.

It was my turn to sigh. "Right now, right here, with you…" I trailed off, swallowing hard, "I'm okay."


	9. Captain America Part 9

The next night I found myself in the mess hall. The tables had been pushed to the sides and crude decorations were hung from the ceiling and walls. At the head of the room a radio was playing, the music blasting out of twin speakers on either of its sides. The general population of the camp was cramped inside the tent, dancing closer than they would have been allowed at home. The punch had been generously spiked and no one really seemed to care, a glass in each hand.

"What's a beautiful dame like you doing all by yourself?"

I tore my attention away from the dancers and looked to the solider who had saddled up next to me. He wasn't terrible attractive but he wasn't hard on the eyes either. "This dame happens to be waiting for the right partner," I answered, honestly a little frustrated that Steve hadn't wandered in yet.

His smile widened. "Well then I'm happy to tell you that you don't have to wait any longer," he told me, holding his hand out to me.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I admire your confidence but I'm afraid you're a little late."

His smile faltered slightly. "You already have a fella?" he asked, shaking his head. "Which one is he and why isn't he dancing with you?"

"He's not much of a dancer," I mused. "Or a socializer," I added.

"If I had a beautiful woman like you I wouldn't let that stop me," he stated, his smile regaining its confidence. "I'd be taking you out every night, dancing, dinner, the movies, whatever you wanted."

I laughed at that, shaking my head at the thought of going to the movies with Steve. "That's a wonderful sentiment but there's the simple matter of the war," I told him. "We're both rather involved."

He arched an eyebrow. "What about when it's over?"

"It'll never be over," I found myself saying. "Not for him, at least."

He grimaced. "He's that attached to the Army?"

"The Army's that attached to him," I corrected. "He's very good at his job."

He went to retort but stopped when something across the room caught his attention.

I looked over and was elated to find Steve standing awkwardly just inside the doors, his eyes scanning the room with an almost lost look on his face. I couldn't help my smile as I raised a hand and waved to him.

Steve caught sight of me and the lost look was replaced with relief. He nodded to me and started to make his way towards me, a wary eye kept on the dancers in an attempt to stay out of their way.

"You're kidding me, right?"

I looked back to the soldier. "What?"

"Your fella is Captain America?" he demanded.

"I just call him Steve," I all but chirped out, the excitement that usually came with Steve already taking over.

He let out a nervous chuckle. "It was nice meeting you," he said, nodding to me. "I'm going to shuffle off before he gets the chance to put me through the wall."

He was gone before I got the chance to tell him that Steve wouldn't lay a hand on him.

The Super Soldier in question had finally made it to me, an almost shy smile on his lips as he stood in front of me. "Ellie," he greeted, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Soldier," I greeted back. "I thought you had gotten lost on the way here," I teased, flashing him a smile to reassure him.

He seemed hesitant as he nodded. "I wasn't sure if I should come or not."

I wasn't really surprised. "And why's that?"

He chuckled nervously. "Ellie, you know I'm a dead hoofer."

I shook my head. "You just think that because you've never gotten the chance to try," I stated. "I mean, look at Jimmy. He can't dance worth a damn but that's not stopping him."

Steve furrowed his brow and turned his attention back to the crowded dance floor. It didn't take him long to spot my brother and the poor nurse he had talked into dancing with him. A startled laugh left him when Jimmy pulled off a rather cringe worthy dance move. "Okay, that's pretty awful," he agreed.

"You can't possibly be as bad as him," I stated, silently praying that that was true.

"I honestly have no idea," he admitted, looking back to me. "Buck's taught me some things but they didn't seem to do much good."

I couldn't help but picture Bucky and then skinny Steve dancing around the room, Buchanan scolding him when Steve once again stepped on his toe or made a wrong move.

"As a person of the female persuasion I think that I should be the judge of that," I stated, holding my hand up to him. "I believe you owe me a dance, soldier."

For a split second it looked like he was going to bolt but the look was quickly replaced with a wide smile. "I believe you're right," he said, taking hold of my hand.

I pulled him out onto the crowded floor just as the next song began, a slow serenade filling the tent.

Steve followed me rigidly, that lost look back on his face. "I've never slow danced before," he admitted.

"It's real easy," I assured him, bringing the hand I was holding up while I brought his other hand to my waist, chuckling when he hesitated. I ran my hand up the arm to rest on his shoulder, my fingers curling around the back of his neck. "You hold your partner close and then you just move to the music," I told him, leaning a little closer to him.

He cleared his throat and gave a small nod before he began to sway us as Frank Sinatra's voice sounded.

**Day by day**

**I'm falling more in love with you**

**And day by day**

**My love seems to grow**

**There isn't any end to my devotion**

**It's deeper, dear, by far**

**Than any ocean**

**I find that day by day**

**You're making all my dreams come true**

**So come what may**

**I want you to know**

**I'm yours alone**

**And I'm in love to this day**

**As we go through the years**

**Day by day**

**I'm yours alone**

**And I'm in love to this day**

**As we go through the years**

**Day by day**

We slowed to a stop as the music faded out.

"See? That wasn't so hard," I told him, refusing to let him go till he pulled away.

That goofy smile he sometimes got spread across his face as he shook his head lightly. "That wasn't hard at all," he agreed.

"Do you think you'll be dancing more often?" I inquired.

He turned his head to the side in thought. "I will but there's a catch."

I arched an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

He leaned down till he was only a few inches away from me. "You have to be my partner," he murmured.

A startled laugh left me at that. "Are you sure?" I asked. "That's a lot of dancing with one person. It could get boring."

He shook his head. "Not if you have the right partner," he corrected me, "and I'm pretty sure I've found mine."

I would be lying if I said that I wasn't shocked. I knew that he had intentions towards me but the conversation about him waiting for the right partner had been so serious that I never considered I would have a chance. There was so much he didn't know about, so much that I had been keeping form him that had the potential to send him running in the other direction. But, God, did I want to be his partner.

I hadn't realized that we were leaning closer till our lips met. My eyes fluttered shut and I found my hand threading through his hair. He was still for a moment before he seemed to let out the breath he had been holding and lean further into me. I smiled against his lisp when I felt his fingers flex against my waist, pulling me a little closer to him.

We jerked apart when a wolf whistle split the air, several cheers and applause following.

I looked over towards Jimmy and found his standing with the other Commandos, wide smiles on their faces as they watched us. I sent them a playful glare before turning back to Steve. "Do you wanna go for a walk?" I asked when I saw how flustered he looked.

He nodded quickly, his eyes scanning over the crowd again.

I tightened my grip on his hand again and I was once again pulling him, this time off the dance floor out into the night air.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he apologized once we were far enough away from the tent. "I shouldn't have-"

"There's nothing wrong with you kissing your girl," I mused, leaning into his shoulder with a smirk.

"But I-" he cut himself off when he registered what I had said. "My girl?" he asked, pulling us to a stop and looking down at me. "Ellie?"

I gave him a questioning look. "Did I misunderstand you when you told me I was the right partner?"

"What? No," he answered, panicking slightly. "No, Ellie, you didn't misunderstand. I just- I didn't think you would…." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm asking a lot."

"You're really not," I assured him.

He seemed surprised by that, his goofy smile back on his face. "You'll really be my girl?"

"Happily," I found myself saying.

A shocked laugh left him. "Really?"

I nodded and brought my hands up to cradle his face. "Really really," I told him before bringing him down into another kiss.

He smiled against my lips as his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and lifted me up. He pivoted on his heel and began to spin us.

I couldn't help the laughter that escaped me, the kiss breaking as I clung to him. "Steve!" I exclaimed, honestly surprised by his enthusiasm.

He slowed to a stop but didn't set me down. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, that smile remaining. "You know I've never done anything like this before and I might not-"

I cut him off with another kiss. "We're going to work on that self-esteem of yours," I told him. "Steve, I wouldn't have let you kiss me if I wasn't sure."

He gave a considerate nod at that. "I would have ended up like Hodge," he agreed. "I just want to make sure that this is something you really want."

"We're stuck on each other, soldier," I reminded him, running my thumbs across his cheekbones. "We're at that point where either we stay exactly where we are or go forward, and in complete honesty? I'm a little a tired of where we are," I answered with a chuckle. "I want you, Steve. Not Captain America, not the Super Solider, just Steve Rogers. Just the kid from Brooklyn who doesn't know when to give up."

A shutter of a chuckle left him as he looked up at me, his smile wavering. "I-uh-" he cut off to clear his throat. "No one's ever wanted just Steve before."

"Well I do," I defended, "and you're going to have to live with that because now that I have you…" I paused for dramatic effect, "I'm not letting you go."

He shook his head. "I don't want you to let me go," he stated, his arms tightening around me. "I don't want to let you go."

"Then don't."

His smile softened and a certain look filled his eyes. "Ellie," he sighed before tilting his head up to once again kiss me.

* * *

"It's about fucking time."

A snort of laughter left me as I choked on the mouthful of 'eggs' I just put in my mouth. I looked over and found Howard limping towards me, a wide smile on his face. "I'm not afraid to hit a cripple," I told him, cringing as I swallowed.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a cripple," he said before dropping down on the bench across from me. "Can I bum one off ya?" he asked, pointing to the lit cigarette in my other hand.

I shook my head. "It's my last one," I told him, holding it out to him.

He sighed dramatically but took it anyway. "So inconsiderate," he muttered, pulling in a long drag.

I rolled my eyes. "You're one to talk," I said, reaching out to flick his forehead. "What are you doing out of the med tent?" I questioned, spearing another sponge like clump of 'eggs'.

"The morning shift nurses aren't as attractive as they would have you believe," he answered. "Plus, when I heard the gossip that Captain America was seen kissing some dame at the dance last night I had to make sure it was you."

I couldn't help but smile. "Gossip, huh?"

He hesitated before cracking a smile. "Bucky came to see me," he admitted. "Kid was smiling from ear to ear."

"He spirited Steve off somewhere. Gave some excuse about needing to have a 'man talk' with him," I told him, dropping my fork back to the tray and picking up the cup of watered down coffee.

Howard arched an eyebrow. "Do we need to have a 'man talk'?" he asked me, taking another drag. "When was the last time you got a little-"

I resisted the urge to throw my coffee at him. "We do not need a 'man talk'," I interrupted. "And the last time I got anything is none of your business."

"I'm your best friend, I think I deserve to know details like that," he defended.

I scoffed. "You are not my best friend."

"We're in cahoots," he stated, gesturing between us. "We're best friends."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," I allowed, sipping at the liquid before wrinkling my nose and setting the cup as far from me as possible. "The least they could do is give us decent coffee."

"Make sure to file a complaint," Howard told me, reaching out to grab my discarded cup to take a test taste of his own. "That's worse than the powdered eggs," he noted, setting it back in the spot I had just put it in.

"Could be worse," I considered, looking down at the tray of rationed food. "During the Civil War there were days when we didn't eat," I told him. "A lot of boys died from starvation or malnutrition."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Are you seriously telling me war stories?" he asked. "Since when did you start acting your age?"

I rolled my eyes. "Howard, I'm 110 years old. My age was bound to catch up to me eventually."

"You're 110?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes again. "You know my birthdate, Howard."

"So?"

"So, I should hope as a self-proclaimed genius that you're capable of doing simple math," I teased, reaching over again to flick his forehead.

He swatted my hand away. "It's one thing to know the number but it's another to actually hear you say it."

I consented with a nod. "I suppose that's true."

"There's no supposing," he stated with a surprisingly firm tone. "And I know this is a sour subject but are you going to tell him?"

Whatever pleasant mood I had been in vanished almost instantly. "What?"

"Are you going to tell Steve?" he amended, leaning across the table to whisper.

My jaw clenched. "I'm getting tired of that question."

He shrugged. "It's a relevant question."

"It's a question I'm not going to answer."

"Why not?"

I glared at him. "You know why."

He glared back. "I don't, actually," he stated. "El, the guy is carrying a massive torch for you. I doubt anything you tell him with change that."

"You don't know that," I growled. "Not everyone is like you and Abe. Or Chester and he still denies it to a degree," I told him.

"And what are you going to do when he starts to notice that you're not getting hurt?" he asked. "Or that you're not aging? What are you going to do then?"

A snarl ripped from my throat. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

He gave me an unamused look. "That's a terrible idea, El."

I pulled in a calming breath and gave him a pointed look. "Howard, why don't we stop while we're ahead? I would hate to have to strangle you so early in the morning."

He went to speak but hesitated when he saw my expression. "At least wait till I've had my morphine shot."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I wish they'd keep you sedated."

"You know, I asked about that and a few of the nurses seemed all for it but Head Nurse Beatrice seems content in leaving me in pain," he told me, pulling off a rather impressive pout. "I don't think she likes me."

"I don't think a lot of people like you," I mused, pushing my still full tray towards Howard. "Something about your personality rubs people the wrong way. A lot of wrong ways."

"How is that my fault?" he asked, reaching down to grab a watery clump of the synthetic 'eggs' and threw it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment before his face screwed into an expression similar to the one you would make after biting into a lemon. "Oh my God," he gagged out, leaning over the tray to spit the mouthful out.

I wrinkled my nose and leaned away from him. "What part of powdered eggs sounded appetizing?" I demanded.

He whined as he scraped his tongue off with the dull butter knife. "How do people eat that shit?"

"After a while you lose your sense of taste," I assured him. "Food stops being food and just texture."

A groan left him as he continuously spat onto the tray.

I chuckled. "Want more coffee?" I asked, reaching over to grab the cup.

He shook his head quickly, turning a little green around the gills.

"Lizzy!"

I looked over Howard's head and spotted Jimmy striding towards us with a tray full of his own 'food'.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked as he took the spot next to the still gagging genius.

"He tasted the eggs," I answered.

Jimmy barked at a laugh and nudged his friends shoulder. "You're not supposed to taste them," he stated. "Just swallow 'em."

Howard's hand slapped over his mouth as he resisted the urge to throw up.

"I think it's safe to say that neither of us will be eating," I stated, sliding my tray over so it was level with Jimmy's.

Jimmy shrugged and stabbed a rather large mouthful of eggs with his fork before shoving them into his mouth.

I shook my head as I watched him. "You haven't seen Steve or Buchanan have you?"

He nodded as he chewed hungrily. "They were right behind me," he answered around the mouthful of egg. "We just got done having a little chat."

I arched an eyebrow at that and fixed him with a glare. "Jimmy."

He gave me a startled look. "What?"

"A little chat?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes and shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Just the usual 'if you hurt her I'll kill you' conversation," he answered. "Vic's not here so I had to do it."

I growled and smacked the side of his head. "Damn right Victor isn't here!" I snapped. "That's a good thing, Jimmy! The first time I actually like a guy and Big Bad Brother isn't here to scare him off."

"I didn't scare him off, Lizzy," he assured me. "The kid's stuck on you pretty hard."

"And I'm stuck on him pretty hard too, Jimmy," I stated, unable to help the growl that laced with my voice. "I don't need you breathing down our necks."

He held his hands up in defense. "I'm not going to breathe down your necks," he told me. "You're free to do whatever you want."

I nodded. "That was a given no matter what you said," I told him. "I'm asking you to not make me hurt you, James."

Jimmy watched me for a moment before he nodded slowly. "Alright, Eleanor."

I accepted that and went to ask him about the nurse he danced with last night before the mess hall doors swung open and Steve and Bucky stepped in. "Morning, boys!" I called out.

Steve's smile when he spotted me was nearly breathless.

"Morning, Beth!" Bucky exclaimed, looking far too excited for the time of day.

"Morning, Ellie," Steve said, moving around the table to sit next to me, his lips finding my cheek as he did so. "How did you sleep?"

I shifted on the bench to face towards him, an easy smile stretched across my face. "Like a child," I answered. "How about you?"

He nodded, his arm coming up to wrap around my waist. "It's better than sleeping on the ground."

A snort of laughter left Bucky as he took the other side of Howard. "Not by much," he disagreed. "The difference is there's a little give."

"You get used to it," Jimmy assured him. "Pretty soon it's the mattress that's going to feel weird. Right, Lizzy?"

I nodded. "They're too damn soft," I agreed. "Hell, Vic doesn't even bother anymore. He just sleeps on the floor."

"Remember the first time he tried to sleep on one after a tour?" Jimmy asked, already laughing to himself.

I smiled at the memory. "He threw the damn thing out the window. We had to talk the hotel manager out of having him arrested," I remembered, leaning into Steve. "He ended up sleeping in the bathtub with his feet hanging over the side."

Jimmy nodded and pointed to me. "He ordered room service and made the waiter bring it into the bathroom."

"We ate breakfast on the floor," I mused, dropping my head onto Steve's shoulder.

Howard let out a weak laugh as he shook his head. "Your family is so weird."

"No denying that," Jimmy agreed, eating another large bite.

"Not to mention your brother's anger issues," he added, giving me a pointed look. "He's worse than you are."

I hummed in agreement. "He goes into blind rages while I'm able to focus on the subject of my anger," I explained with an easy smile.

He blinked several times. "That's terrifying," he stated.

"Try being on the receiving end of it," Jimmy told him, knocking his shoulder into his. "I remember one time she spent a month orchestrating a master plan to get back at Vic after he put one of her dates in the hospital," he started, giving Steve a pointed look, "It was an elaborate set up, involved every datable female within a five mile radius and several restaurant, theater, and dance hall owners. After a month of absolutely horrible dates he figure it out and apologized to her."

They all looked over to me with wide eyes.

"How the hell did you pull that off?" Buchannan demanded.

I shrugged. "It was easy enough to convince the girls and some of the dance hall owners were enthusiastic," I answered. "The rest of them were easily bribed."

Buchannan chuckled and looked to his friend. "I've said this once and I'll say it again; good luck."

I shook my head as the others laughed. "You know, Buchannan, you have a wonderful head of hair, it would be a shame if you woke up without it," I told him, keeping my voice conversational.

He sobered instantly giving me a stricken look. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you, Beth?" he asked.

I gave him my best innocent look. "I never said I would do anything," I told him. "I simply said that it would be shame if it happened."

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Right," he agreed before looking back to his friend. "Great choice, pal, glad you found her."

Steve smiled and tightened his arm around my waist. "I'm glad I found her too," he said before pressing a kiss to my temple.


	10. Captain America Part 10

"Thank fucking God," Jimmy growled as he practically ripped his harness off and ran down the loading ramp of the plane.

I chuckled and unbuckled myself. "I'm pretty sure that's blasphemy," I mused, smiling over at Steve.

He gave a considering look before nodding. "Probably."

"You were an altar boy, weren't you?" I questioned, pulling mine and Jimmy's pack from the above netting.

He let out a laugh as he nodded. "For a while," he admitted, "but it didn't last long."

"Why not?"

"Who wants an altar boy with a black eye and split lip?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Jesus, you really did get in a lot of fights."

"You have no idea," Buchannan spoke up. "This punk couldn't go anywhere without getting into a fight."

Steve flushed lightly as he pushed Bucky away from him. "Shut up, Buck, no one asked you to get involved."

Bucky scoffed. "Please, if I didn't get involved then you would be a stain in some back alley," he stated, shoving Steve's shoulder back. "I've saved your skin more times then you care to admit."

I smiled as I looked between the two friends. "You two are adorable," I told them before shouldering the packs and following after my brother.

* * *

"And the guard said this Dr. Schmidt had left a week earlier?" Chester asked, his eyes scanning over the medical reports he had pulled out of the box.

"He said that's when the smell started," I told him.

He nodded and closed the file, his face a little paler than usual. "How long does he stay at these labs?"

"The guard wasn't sure how long he had been at their location but the research dates go back several months," I explained. "They're not consistent but it's enough of a time line to go off of."

"If you had to guess, where is he now?"

"If I had to guess?" I asked letting out a sigh. "The next closest factory."

His eyebrows shot up. "It's that easy?"

I nodded. "Going off what we know so far? Yes."

He pulled in a deep breath and nodded. "Fine, I'll discuss it with the Captain."

Fear shot through me at that. "You're not going to tell him-"

He waved his hands at me. "I'm not an idiot, Eleanor, of course I'm not going to tell him!" he snapped. "I'm going to discuss the team's next deployment."

I chastised myself and nodded. "Right, right," I agreed, clearing my throat. "Okay, uh, want me to go find him?"

He shook his head and set the file back into the box. "I'll find him in the morning," he told me.

I nodded and backed out of the room. "Night, Chester."

"Night, Eleanor."

It was a little after ten and I knew that I would find some if not all of the Howling Commandos at the local bar. It was crowded for a Wednesday night but it wasn't all that surprising, drinking usually went up during wartime. I weaved through the many bodies towards the back room where Steve and Bucky frequented, doing my best to ignore the looks I received form the other patrons.

"Evening, Eleanor."

I looked over to the bar and found Timothy and Gabe perched on the stools. "Evening, fellas," I said back, stepping over towards them. "Enjoying the comforts of English hospitality?" I asked, noticing the plates of pub food sitting on the bar in front of them.

Both men nodded together.

"Hell of a lot better than whatever they're feeding the boys at those camps," Gabe stated, reaching over and plucking a French fry from his plate. "Want one?" he asked, offering it to me.

I couldn't help but smile. "Don't mind if I do. Merci, Gabe," I said as I popped it into my mouth. "Are the others here?"

Timothy nodded and gesturing to the far corner of the bar. "Jim and Falsworth are over there," he answered.

I glanced over and spotted them by the piano.

"Jackie is chatting up some blonde damn over there," Gabe stated, pointing behind me.

I looked and found him speaking excitedly with an equally enthused blonde woman.

"And your brother took off a couple minutes ago with two lovely ladies I'm pretty sure he didn't know the name of."

An amused chuckle left me as I nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like him," I mused. "What about our brave Sargent and his trusty sidekick Captain America?"

Timothy snorted into his beer while Gabe smiled brightly.

"They're in the back," Gabe answered, gesturing in the direction I had been moving towards originally.

I nodded and flashed them a smile. "Thank you, fellas," I said before making my way towards the curtained doorway.

They were sat in the same seats as they had been the first time I came to the bar to find them. I remembered admiring the way Steve's uniform fit him so well, marveling at the effort the seamstress had to have put in to make it proportionate with his shoulder to waist ratio. I remember wanting to hug that shoulder to waist ratio but not being able and then I remembered that in the here and now I could do just that.

I embraced the giddy feeling that swelled in my chest as I practically skipped forward and wound my arms around his waist, my face pressing into the middle of his back.

He stiffened instantly, straightening to his full height. "Uh-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a credit to your uniform, solider?" I asked, smiling brightly as I tightened my arms.

A sigh left him. "Ellie," he said, relaxing back into me. "Don't do that."

I smiled and moved my chin to rest on his shoulder. "Why? Did I scare you?" I asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Maybe," he answered, turning his head to look at me. "I'd hate to send you through the wall cause you hugged me."

"Are you really that jumpy?" I asked.

"Sometimes."

"So it would be a bad idea if I attack hugged you?"

He considered it for a moment before nodding. "Probably."

"Damn," I grumbled. "There goes my plan of playing Hug Ninja."

He arched an eyebrow. "Hug Ninja?" he questioned.

I nodded. "My brothers and I used to play it when we were younger," I told him. "It's kind of like Tag and hide and seek put together but you don't announce that you're playing, and the only way to win is if you manage to hug your target without them seeing you before you touch them," I explained, unable to help the laugh that left me as the memories flooded back. "This one time Jimmy managed to get Victor when he was down working on the docks. It spooked Vic so bad that he ended up throwing Jimmy into the water."

Steve beamed at that, probably imagining Jimmy flying through the air.

"Lizbeth," Bucky spoke up, looking over to me with a concerned expression, "why is it that every one of your childhood memories results in someone getting hurt?"

A snort left me. "The same reason why all of yours do. I grew up in the boys," I answered, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

He swatted my hand away. "I have a feeling that you ran the boys," he stated, giving me a pointed look.

I chuckled and shook my head. "I ran my brothers," I corrected. "There's a difference."

Bucky nodded. "I don't doubt that. You Howletts seem to be made from something else."

"And you haven't even met Victor yet."

"If he's anything like you and Jimmy then I look forward to it," he said, throwing back the rest of his drink and signaling for another one.

"You say that now," I muttered before turning my attention to Steve. "How are you tonight, solider?" I asked, turning in his arm so I could lean back against the bar.

He smiled down at me. "I'm doing better now that you're here."

I cocked my head to the side as I reached up to straighten his tie. "Is that so?"

Steve gave a small nod as his lips pulled into a grin. "I'm always better when you're with me," he said, his voice quiet enough that if I wasn't standing so close to him I wouldn't have heard it.

On an impulse I wrapped my hand around his tie and pulled him forward, my head tilting up to meet him half way.

Steve's arm constricted around my waist as a sigh left him.

I smiled against his lips before pulling back. "Hm, I could get used to that," I told him.

"You'll have to," he told me, resting his forehead against mine. "I'm not going to stop any time soon."

"I'm not sure what's gotten into you but I rather like it," I mused, giving him a chaste kiss.

He laughed lightly as his other hand came up to cup my cheek, his fingers brushing back my hair. "I'm pretty sure it's you."

"I have to agree with him," Bucky piped in.

We pulled away from each other and looked over to him.

"This is all your fault," he stated, gesturing to Steve whole bodily.

I arched an eyebrow. "All of this?" I asked, pointing to Steve as well. "This is my fault?"

He nodded. "He wasn't like this when I left him," he defended. "When I left he was a 5'4" 95 pound asthmatic who had more gumption than sense."

I let out a laugh. "And now he's a 6'2" 240 pound Super Solider with more gumption than sense," I stated, patting Steve on the chest.

"Hey," Steve protested, frowning between the two of us. "I do not-"

"Yes you do," both of us interrupted.

"Who else would jump out of a plane without knowing how a parachute works?" I demanded, giving him a pointed look.

Steve's eyes widened as he glanced over to Bucky. "Who told you that?"

"Howard," I answered. "He also told me about your first plan of action."

He cringed.

"What?" Bucky pressed, reaching out to jab my arm.

Steve shook his head. "It's not important."

"He was going to steal a jeep and drive to Austria," I found myself answering, unable to keep the teasing tone from my voice. "Our Steve here was very determined to find you."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Bucky asked, reaching up to smack the back of Steve's head.

Steve jerked away from him, shooting him a warning look. "I wasn't going to leave you there, Buck," he defended.

"You didn't know I was there for sure," he pointed out.

"Well, it's a damn good thing I didn't give a shit because you were there," Steve stated, dangerously on the edge of turning a sour mood. "You too," he added, looking to me.

I nodded. "True but I was not in need of saving," I reminded him.

"Doesn't matter."

"Steve-"

"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to save my friend," Steve cut in, glaring at said man with that firm expression he often got when confronted.

Seeing that this had the potential to turn into something ugly and loud, I leaned forward and pressed a particularly hard kiss to Steve's cheek. "While that face does make me weak in the knees I'd much rather you smile, it tends to brighten the whole room," I told him, taking extra care to speak soft enough so only he would hear.

The firm look on his face melted almost instantly as a new blush swept across his cheeks. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to me. "The whole room, huh?"

I nodded. "It causes quiet a distraction," I informed him.

"I distract you?"

I scoffed. "As if you haven't noticed," I said, smacking the back of my hand against his chest. "I see those little smirks you get when you know I'm watching you."

He gave a small nod. "You watch me a lot."

"A habit I picked up during training," I told him. "I've been distracted by you for an awfully long time."

Bucky let out a groan. "Oh, you two are going to make me throw up," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving so you two get to find somewhere else to go."

Steve looked to his friend in alarm while I laughed.

"Okay, Buchannan, we'll go be disgusting somewhere else," I assured him. "Just promise that you'll either make it to the hotel or into some poor woman's bed?" I requested.

He gave me a slightly confused look. "What exactly are you asking me to do?"

"I want you to get some sleep," I clarified.

Buchannan watched me for a moment before giving a small nod. "Alright, Lizbeth," he agreed. "I'll get some sleep."

"Good man," I praised, reaching out to pat his shoulder before turning my attention to Steve. "Come on, soldier, we're moving out," I told him, moving out of the circle of his arm and towards the back door.

Steve nodded to me and looked back to his friend. "See ya in the morning, Buck?"

The brunette gave him an easy smile and a nod. "Sure thing, punk."

Steve let out a huff of a laugh. "Jerk," he retaliated before sliding off his barstool and stepping towards me. "Where we going, Ellie?"

I tilted my head to the side as I thought. "Well, all the restaurants are closed, so are the dance halls," I mused. "The British Museum closes at eight along with The Globe," I said, unable to not be disappointed but making a mental list so I could take him when things settled down.

He laughed as he pushed open the back door. "So we're out in the cold?"

"I thought you liked our late night walks?" I questioned, smiling widely as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

He nodded quickly and pulled me closer to his side. "I love our late night walks," he assured me, leaning down to kiss the side of my head. "I just want to do something a little more special."

I smiled and leaned against his shoulder. "Oh soldier, every moment with you is special."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," he stated.

I nodded as I looked up to the sky, still amazed at how many stars managed to shine despite the lights of the city. "You should because it was," I told him, frowning slightly when his body heat dissipated as his arm fell away from me. "How many stars do you think there are?" I asked, watching my breath swirl out like smoke.

"My Mom used to say that there's a star for everyone," Steve answered. "That when we die our star appears so no one will really forget about us."

"I love that," I mused, now looking over the stars with a wonder of which one was my mother's, my father's and anyone else who I had the misfortune of outliving. I was pulled from my thoughts when a new warmth was draped over my shoulders and I glanced down to find Steve's uniform jacket. I looked over to him and smiled at the sight of his tie tucked into one of the gaps between the buttons. "You didn't have to," I told him.

He let out a laugh. "Ellie, I can see your breath," he stated, giving me a pointed look. "I'm not gonna let my girl catch a cold."

Instead of arguing and telling him that it was genetically impossible for me to catch a cold I simply flashed him a smile and slipped my arms into the sleeves. "This is ridiculous," I stated, bringing my hands up and wiggling my fingers to empathize how long the sleeves were on me. "I feel like a child."

He beamed at me and wrapped his arm around my waist once again. "I think you look beautiful," he told me.

I smiled at that and wrapped my arm around his own waist, pressing myself into his side. "Well, as I said earlier, you're a credit to your uniform."

"What context did you mean that in?" he questioned, looking down at me with furrowed eyebrows. "Because the usual definition is that I'm a credit to whichever branch of the military I'm in but…..it's never that simple with you."

I laughed at that and nodded, having the common sense to blush. "It was in the context of you looking like a Greek god in your uniform," I explained. "Your shoulder to waist ratio is heavenly."

His eyes widened as he looked down at me in surprise.

"What? You see yourself in the mirror, you know it's true," I defended.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, yeah, Bucky said something about it," he said, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck in his usual nervous fashion. "He said that it looked unnatural and that I should look into joining the circus."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "He's just jealous because he knows all the girls will get all hot and bothered over it."

"Yeah, well, I only care about my girl," he stated, seeming to smile to himself as he looked ahead of us, "and apparently she thinks it's heavenly."

I was surprisingly prideful at that. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I leaned further into his side, my head rested on his shoulder as we strolled down the London streets.

We reached the end of the block and was faced with a small city park with a slide and a seesaw and a pair of swings.

"Steve, when was the last time you played?" I asked, pulling him to a stop.

He looked down at me in confusion. "Played?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

I nodded to the park.

He looked over and let out a startled laugh. "Oh," he said, a wide smile appearing on his face.

"That look says it all," I stated, grabbing ahold of his hand and pulling him across the street into the park. I made a beeline for the swings and claimed one with a childish giggle. I gripped the chains and kicked off the dirt patch under the swing.

Steve took the other swing, the bar holding us up groaning in protest. "I'm gonna feel real bad if I break this," he stated, bouncing slightly in to test the support.

"I'm sure if we tell the kids that Captain America broke their swing set they'll forgive you," I assured him, pumping my legs forward and back to send me higher. "Heavens knows I would."

He let out a laugh. "You're biased."

"Maybe a little."

He shook his head and pushed off the ground, not so surprisingly sending him high enough and fast enough to level out with me. "You know, I didn't spend a lot of time on playgrounds as a kid," he mused.

"You were sick a lot, right?" I asked despite already knowing the answer.

He nodded. "Not to mention that when I did I would always get into fights."

"You actually got into playground fights?"

"Have you met me?" he asked, looking over to me with a raised eyebrow.

A startled laugh left me. "Are you admitting to getting into an obscene amount of fights?"

"No, I'm admitting that I don't have a high tolerance to bullies."

"You have no tolerance," I argued.

"Maybe."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "There's something in you, Steven Grant Rogers," I told him. "I don't know what it is but it isn't compromise."

"I'll compromise."

"Not with bullies."

"They don't deserve it."

"No, I suppose not."

He laughed again and gave me a questioning look. "Did you really just call me my full name?"

"I like your full name," I told him. "Steven Grant Rogers. It's entirely you."

He nodded at that. "Yes, well, that's usually the purpose for names," he reminded me before giving me that smile that caused me distraction. "But, I like your full name too. Eleanor Lizbeth Howlett."

"I've always thought Lizbeth was a bit odd," I admitted, dropping my head back to look at the sky.

"Really? Then why do you let Bucky call you it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Jimmy's called me Lizzy for as long as I can remember and it was my mother's name so I don't hold a complete hatred towards it."

"Grant was my dad's name," he told me. "I don't remember much about him so I like having a part of him with me."

He had spoken a little softer but the smile never faltered so I didn't take it as a bad sign. "Jimmy's and Victor's middle names are their fathers too."

He looked to me in alarm. "What?" he asked.

"What?" I asked back.

"You said 'their fathers' not 'their father'," he pointed out.

My eyes widened as I realized that I had indeed said that. I could have told him that I had misspoken but that would have been yet another lie onto the monstrous pile. "Okay," I said, putting my feet down and sliding to a stop.

Steve responded in kind, that alarmed look still on his face as he looked to me. "Ellie?"

"What I'm about to tell you only a few people know," I told him before thinking on that. "Actually, outside my family Howard is the only one who knows," I amended.

"Ellie, you don't have to tell me," he assured me, reaching out to grab my hand.

I shook my head. "I've pretty much told you already," I said with a shrug. "Victor is mine and Jimmy's half-brother."

Steve's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Did your parents remarry?"

I let out a snort of laughter. "Oh God, that would have been a disaster," I said, visioning my mother and biological father being married together. "No, uh, Victor's father and my mother had an affair, which resulted in me and Jimmy. My mother's husband, Logan, didn't know and continued not to know till the day he died. Coincidentally, that's when Jimmy and I found out as well."

"Your mom told you?"

I swallowed hard and once again considered telling him a lie that would make the whole thing easier, but I once again reminded myself of the many lies I had already told him.

"Has Bucky told you anything about my childhood?" I asked, wondering if his best friend ever spoke about the fireside conversations we shared.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. "No."

I pulled in a deep breath. "I told him that my parents died when Jimmy and I were 12 and Victor was 14. I told him that we were afraid of being put into an orphanage so we ran away and took care of ourselves. What I didn't tell him was how they died," I started, dropping my eyes to the grass. "Thomas, Victor's father, showed up drunk one night with a shotgun, demanding that my mother tell us the truth. Within a ten minute conversation me, Jimmy and Victor were the only ones left alive."

It was the closest to the truth I could get. I knew that eventually I would have to tell him the whole truth but that would only be possible after telling him the truth about what I was. And between the two conversations I had with Jimmy and Howard I was more than certain that I would have to be forced to tell him, the fear of his reaction sending me into a frenzy.

"Ellie."

I looked up to him and was surprised to find tears in his eyes. "What's wrong?" I found myself asking.

Surprised twisted across his face. "After what you just told me you're asking me what's wrong?" he countered, reaching out to brush the back of his fingers against my cheek. "Ellie, you're crying for God's sake."

I brushed my hand against my own cheek and found that he was right. "Huh, I haven't cried in a long time," I whispered. "I didn't even cry when…." I trailed off, the absurdness of not crying after your parents death sounding borderline psychotic. "Maybe it's because I'm telling you."

"Why would that matter?"

"Because you matter the most," I answered instantly.

Steve's hard expression softened at that. "Ellie…."

"I've never told anyone how they died," I said, clearing my throat. "I've never wanted anyone to know but you…." I trailed off shaking my head. "I want you to know everything."

A smile twitched at his lips and he ran his thumb across my cheek. "I want to know everything," he told me. "But, Ellie, I don't want you to tell me things because you think you have to. I want you to tell me them when you're ready."

I leaned into his hand and gave him a smile of my own. "Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you asked me if I was okay?"

He laughed lightly at that and threaded his fingers through my hair. "No, but if it's as grateful as I am for asking you, then it really doesn't need to be said."

"No, I suppose it doesn't," I agreed, pulling in another calming breath and letting it out slowly. I swung towards him and gave him a quick kiss before pushing off the ground again. "I hope you know that you're stuck with me. You'll have to pry me off," I told him, releasing one of the chains so I could wipe my face free of the tears I hadn't allowed.

Steve let out a snort of laughter and rejoined me in swinging. "Oh, Ellie, if only you knew."


	11. Captain America Part 11

The fire's cracks and pops chorused with the surrounding chirps of the crickets. I was nestled in Steve's side, his blanket wrapped around both of us as we watched the flames dance and spit. The others had either decidedly gone to sleep or dozed off, slumped in positions that they would complain about come morning. Jimmy was the closest, his back facing us with him blanket pulled up and over his head with his bare feet peeking out at the bottom.

"Why doesn't the cold bother you two?"

I pulled out of my trance and looked up to Steve. "What?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

He nodded over to my brother. "It's mid-winter and he's sleeping with his shoes off," he pointed out, "and Bucky told me about you running off without your shoes to take care of some unfriendlies."

I glared over at the sleeping form of Bucky Barnes, making a mental note to smack him when he woke up. "We grew up in Alaska," I lied with a grimace. "Snow was just another toy for us. We have a high tolerance for the cold."

"Alaska, huh?" he asked, a small laugh in his voice. "Wouldn't have guessed that."

"Uh yeah, we left after our parents died, traveled down through Canada till we reached the states. We moved around a lot but we've lived in Manhattan for the longest."

Another small laugh left him. "Manhattan? Seriously?"

I nodded before clearing my throat. "Upper West Side. Right by Central Park," I answered, smiling fondly at the memory. "I spent a lot of time in that park."

"You know, I'm surprised that we never ran into each other before," he mused, leaning his head down to rest a top of mine. "I spent every weekend at Central Park," he told me, his arm tightening around me. "I saw thousands of people a day but I would remember if I saw you."

"So would I," I agreed. "You probably had a sketch book with you, huh?"

He nodded the best he could. "Never left home without it."

"I definitely would have remembered you," I told him. "I probably would have snuck up behind you to peek over your shoulder. I would eventually scare you and insist on buying you an ice cream to make up for it."

"Would you really?"

I hummed in agreement. "I would quickly discover how much of a gentleman you are, and I would know that I would never forgive myself if I let you walk away. You would be stuck with me, whether you wanted it or not."

He chuckled. "Believe me, I would want it," he told me, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "I wouldn't know what to do with you but I would take it."

A snort of laughter escaped me before I leaned back to look up at him. "Wouldn't know what to do with me?" I asked, unable to help the smile that pulled at my face.

His mouth dropped open and a look of panic swept across his face. "Oh God, Ellie, I didn't mean it like that," he rushed out. "I just meant-"

"I know," I interrupted. "I was teasing."

Steve let out a tired sigh and slumped back down. "I should know better."

"You really should," I agreed. "How have you gone your whole life with Buchannan and not know when someone is teasing you?"

His face fell slightly. "It's different with women," he stated with a shrug. "It means something else."

I pursed my lips and watched him for a moment before moving my hands up to rest on either side of his neck. "Steve, you know I don't mean it cruelly," I mused.

An appreciative smile slipped across his face. "I know that, Ellie," he assured me. "There isn't a cruel bone in your body," he stated, jostling me lightly.

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me at the untruth of that. "Maybe not towards you," I allowed. "I'm plenty cruel to others."

He shook his head. "I don't believe that," he denied.

"Steve, you've seen the things I've done," I reminded him, giving him a pointed look.

Steve gave a nod. "True, but none of that was ever done out of cruelty," he said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

"You don't know that."

"Maybe, but I know you," he countered, his baby blues all but dancing in the firelight.

I bit into my lip to keep from grinning like a goof. "Yes you do," I mused, shifting my hands up higher till they framed his face and pulled him towards me.

Steve had all but stopped being surprised by my affectionate attentions. Only half a moment's hesitation before returning them, almost eager to how quick of a learner he was.

I silently thanked whoever was listening that the others, especially Buchannan, were asleep. I couldn't help the giggle that left me when he suddenly swung me around to sit in his lap. "What are you doing?" I questioned.

He grinned down at me. "I can't have my girl sleeping on the ground, can I?" he asked back. "You don't have a problem using me as a pillow, do ya?"

I arched an eyebrow at that, a little surprised by his boldness but shook my head. "You are awfully comfortable," I agreed before dropping my head back onto his shoulder. "Promise to keep me warm?"

"Like I would do anything else," he said, adjusting the blanket to cocoon both of us.

A hum of contentment left me as I let my eyes slip closed, nestling closer to him. "Have I told you how happy you make me?"

A soft laugh left him. "I think it's implied," he told me.

"Good."

He was quiet for a moment. "Have I told you how happy you make me?"

I beamed at that and pressed my face closer into his chest. "It's implied," I answered, my voice muffled against his uniform.

"Sweet dreams, Ellie," he murmured, leaning down once again to kiss the top of my head.

* * *

Being the first one to wake in camp always held such a peaceful bliss to it. The sun was just crawling through the trees and the inhabitant birds were softly chirping. The Howling Commandos were sprawled out around what was once a camp fire, huddled in on themselves in an attempt to keep away the creeping morning chill. Steve had managed to keep the blanket wrapped around both of us despite him having fallen asleep. His head was dipped and rested against the top of mine, his soft breathing ruffling my hair. I shifted in his arms, testing to see just how difficult it would be to pull away from him without waking him. A disappointed frown pulled at my face when I realized it wouldn't be possible.

Steve's breathing suddenly turned deep and his muscles constricted around me in something resemblance of a stretch.

"Morning, soldier," I greeted, making sure to keep my voice soft.

His head lifted from mine and he looked down at me. "Morning, Ellie," he greeted back, his voice thick with sleep. "How long have you been awake?"

I shook my head and gave him a soft smile. "Not long," I assured him.

He pulled in another deep breath and glanced around the camp. "Are we the first ones up?" he asked.

I hummed in agreement. "It's pretty early."

Steve let out a content sigh. "We have another stolen moment," he mused.

"That we do," I agreed, shifting out of his lap to kneel between his legs, my arms coming up to wrap around his chest, all but sinking into him.

A soft chuckle left him as he adjusted his arms around me as well, his chin resting on my shoulder. "How'd you sleep?" he questioned.

"Nothing but peace," I answered, turning my head to kiss his cheek. "How about you?"

"I had you in my arms," he stated. "I slept wonderfully," he told me, pressing kisses up my jawbone.

I resisted the urge to giggle and pulled back to straighten out his hair, very amused at how disheveled he had managed to get it. "Please tell me there are pictures of you and Buchannan as boys," I all but pleaded.

A sad smile pulled at his face. "No, no pictures," he answered. "We could never afford them but I've drawn us a few times."

I perked up at that. "Do you have them with you?"

He pursed his lips in consideration before nodding slowly. "It's in my bag,"

I untangled myself from him and leaned over to drag his pack over to us. "May I see them?"

He nodded and reached a hand out to dig through it, producing a weathered sketch book. He gave me a playful look as he opened it and flipped through a few pages before turning it to face me.

The two pages were filled with sketches of roughhousing boys with wide smiles. They looked the definition of scruffy and were draped in ill fitted clothes that were far from clean. All in all they looked like a mothers nightmare.

"You two were adorable," I cooed, leaning forward to get a closer look. "When did you do these?" I asked, unable to help but notice that they were in the front of the book.

"When he got accepted into the Army," he answered. "The thought of my friend dying overseas had me nostalgic."

I shook my head. "He's not dying any time soon," I assured him. "None of us are."

He let out a humorless laugh. "No one can promise that, Ellie."

"Well, we'll certainly try out hardest, won't we?" I asked before reaching out to turn the page.

"No you don't," he denied, pulling the book away and closing it.

"And why not?" I demanded.

He shot me a wink. "Cause it's embarrassing."

I scoffed. "Oh please, you sent me drawings all the time," I argued, reaching for the book. "What's in there that you don't want me to see?"

Steve held it well out of my reach, a playful smirk stretched across his face. "I can't have any secrets?"

I put on my best pout. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know them," I stated. "Especially when you draw as well as you do."

A blush swept across his face at the praise. "How about this," he said, shoving the book back into his bag, "I'll let you look through all my sketch books when we get back home."

I pursed my lips. "Even that one?" I asked, pointing to the one he had stashed.

"Even that one," he agreed.

"I accept," I told him, the prospect of seeing his art incentive for me to do anything. I swooped in to seal the deal with a kiss before pushing myself to my feet. "Do you want to rouse the troops while I scout?"

He smiled up at me and gave a nod. "Be careful, Ellie."

"I always am, soldier," I reminded him before taking off into the trees.

* * *

My labored breathing puffed out like smoke as I ran between the trees, my bare feet crunching twigs and snow as I went. The collective shouting of German behind me let me know that I wasn't moving too fast and that they were still following me. I pushed myself a little harder before dodging to the side and pressing myself to a tree, my body going still as I listened to their approaching footsteps. My spikes snapped out and with a calming breath I lunged out.

Situations like this had found me many times before and at this point in my life I was tired of them. I could predict every move depending on who they were fighting for. It had become mechanic in a way, not really paying attention to my actions till everything went still.

The German solider groaned as he fell back to the snow, his blood mingling with his fellow soldiers.

I let out a sigh and retracted my spikes. "I'm getting tired of this," I stated, crouching down to wash my hands in the snow. "You would think you guys would have learned after the first time," I mused, flicking my hands towards the bodies.

"Different war, Lizzy, different reasons."

I looked over my shoulder and found Jimmy walking towards me. "What are you doing out here?"

He shrugged. "I was bored," he answered.

I gave him an unamused look. "Steve sent you to check on me, didn't he?"

"Dugan actually," he answered with a chuckle. "I think he's got a little crush on you."

It was my turn to chuckle. "I highly doubt that," I told him, pushing myself to my feet. "Dugan's like a friendlier big brother."

Jimmy snorted. "You're old enough to be his grandmother."

"That doesn't change how people feel towards me," I reminded him, "besides, as far as they know I'm the youngest one in the group. It's not odd for them to feel protective of me."

"But I'm your big brother," Jimmy protested.

I shot him a look. "By six minutes," I pointed out.

He held his hands up in defense. "I didn't pick the order."

I rolled my eyes and wiped my hands against my pants. "Where are the others?"

"'bout half a mile back," he answered, jerking his thumb in the direction.

"Good," I said, reaching down to grab hold of the still bleeding soldier to prop him against the tree.

"I'm pretty sure Steve would rethink his whole 'not one cruel bone in your body' mindset if he saw this," Jimmy stated.

I paused and glared up at him. "You heard that?" I demanded.

He chuckled. "Oh yeah," he answered. "Nice cover up with Alaska, by the way," he added, flashing me a smile. "We can't have illegal immigrants on Captain America's team."

I scoffed. "You and Victor are the illegal immigrants," I reminded him. "I'm a U.S. citizen."

"Yeah, but you weren't for 27 years," he countered. "Besides, what's wrong with being Canadian?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing, it's just easier not to explain."

"You mean it's easier to lie."

"Yes, James, it's easier to lie," I agreed, more than a little fed up with his passive aggressive digging.

He grimaced at the use of his full name. "So, we're pretty close to getting Klaus Schmidt," he said, smartly changing the subject. "What do you think they'll do with him?"

A humorless laugh left me. "Outside of Chester, you, and I no one on our side knows who he is," I told him. "If he is Johann Schmidt's brother then he's leverage but if he's not? He's ours to play with."

Jimmy's face twisted into a smirk. "I really hope they're not related," he stated.

I shook my head. "The chances of them not being related are very slim given the circumstances," I begrudgingly admitted. "I doubt a control freak like Johann would let just anybody conduct experiments in the basements of his factories. Especially experiments that have nothing to do with furthering his cause."

"How about we try being optimistic, huh?" he suggested, giving me a pointed look. "I thought we wanted to tear this guy apart?"

"Believe me he's at the top of my list, but we have to be somewhat realistic with our expectations of the outcome," I reasoned. "If he is Johann's brother then we have to tell Steve and the others."

He pulled a face. "Do we have to?" he asked.

I nodded. "If he is his brother then his usefulness goes farther than just us," I explained. "He has the potential to be the downfall of Hydra."

A frustrated sigh left my brother. "Fine, fine, we'll tell them, but only if he is the bastards brother," he allowed.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Fuck you, Watson."

I couldn't help the laugh that left me at that. "That's clever," I praised.

He flashed me a smile. "Thank you."

I glanced back in the direction the others were and grabbed hold of Jimmy's arm. "Come on, let's make up some ground," I said before pulling him back the way I had come.

"Are there more bodies this way?" he questioned.

"Maybe."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked, letting out a small laugh.

* * *

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* * *

Blind siding someone in my family was nearly impossible, but blind siding two of them at the same time was unheard of. So imagine my surprise when just that happened.

Unlike either of my brothers I have been electrocuted at least three times in my life. The initial shock of the volts traveling through the body causes an excruciating pause in your brain, a dragged out slur that makes it impossible to do anything. The muscle spasms that rock the body afterwards drops you to the floor and renders you even more immobile. The pain that comes with it all takes the backseat to the fear that comes with the uncertainty of what the person is going to do with you. In this case the person was several Hydra Agents, all of which who didn't seem too surprised when Jimmy attempted to go at them with his claws. The fear doubled when I realized who they had to have been working for.

A new wave of electricity washed over me and the world went black.

"It's time to wake up, fraulein."

I jerked awake with a gasp of pain, my vision swimming against the blinding light shining down on me. "Where am I?" I questioned, my voice cracking.

"I am sure that if you think on it, it will come to you," the German accented voice told me.

I pulled in a deep breath and attempted to sit up, my frown deepening when I found myself strapped to another autopsy table in my underwear. "This isn't how I envisioned our first meeting, Dr. Schmidt," I stated, squinting through the light to try to get a better look at the figure standing beside the table.

The man leaned over and blocked out the light, a halo appearing around his head. "I am sorry to hear that, but this is exactly how I envisioned it," he said, a wide smile pulling across his face. "I have been waiting for this for a long time."

I would be lying if I said that didn't worry me. "I didn't know I was that popular," I said, attempting to keep my voice as calm as I could.

He chuckled lightly. "Just among us scientists," he assured me with a small shrug. "Ever since I received the first film reel I have been aching to get my hands on you."

A knot formed in my stomach. "Film reel?" I asked. "What film reel?"

Klaus tuttered and shook his head. "Ignorance does not look good on a woman of your beauty," he chided. "You are well aware of what film reels I speak of."

My jaw clenched. "Dr. Zola," I said, once again regretting not having killed the man when I had the chance. "I was under the impression that the film reels were for Johann only."

An amused look twisted across Klaus' face. "Ah but you see, my brother and I share many things."

All hope of being able to tear the man apart without consequences flew out the window with that simple statement.

"Speaking of brothers, I think it will bring you some peace of mind to know that yours is safe and sound over there," he said, pointing over to other wall.

I twisted my head around to look and found Jimmy chained to the wall, a gag tied into his mouth. "What makes you think he's my brother?"

He shrugged. "I may have ran a few blood tests while I waited for you to wake," he said, waving it off. "Curiosity you see."

I nodded the best I could. "I've seen what your curiosity is capable of."

He seemed pleased with that. "Have you? Where?"

I swallowed hard as the memories of the various basements flooded my head. "You leave behind quit the body trail," I told him. "Something I've been wanting to ask you about."

"Have you now?"

"I wanted to ask you why you leave so much research behind."

He pursed his lips in thought before stepping back.

My eyes screwed shut at the sudden light and turned my head away.

"I am not looking for anything in particular," he stated, sounding disinterested. "As I said it's simple curiosity."

"You've killed dozens of Mutants for curiosity?" I found myself asking.

"Mutants," Klaus mused. "I rather like that term, don't you? It fits us so well."

A humorless laugh left me. "Us?" I demanded. "What the hell does that mean?"

He appeared above me again. "What do you think it means?"

"In the simplest form it means that you're a Mutant," I said, the mere idea of it making me sick. "It means that you're killing your kin."

He had the audacity to laugh. "I would not go as far as to call them my kin," he stated. "We simply share a similar genetic alteration."

I resisted the urge to lung at him. "May I ask what started this curiosity?" I asked, the acid in my voice far from subtle.

He chuckled. "I cannot very well dissect myself, can I?" he asked, sounding as if it had been obvious.

"No, I suppose you can't," I agreed.

Klaus sighed and gave me another smile. "Words cannot describe how happy I am my men found you," he said. "I gave them all a picture of you, you see. Just in case you happened across their path."

"How very prepared of you," I praised. "Now that you have me, what do you plan on doing with me?"

He suddenly became giddy. "I have many things planned for you," he told me, practically bouncing on his feet. "I have no idea where to start."

"I'm sorry to cause you such a dilemma," I said, forcing a smile on my face. "Maybe you should write a list."

His smile widened at that. "Johann told me that you had spirit," he mused, reaching out to brush his hand across my hair. "I'm glad to see that he was not wrong."

I jerked my head away from his hand and glared up at him.

He went to make a comment but stopped when the sound of a door opened.

"Dr. Schmidt?!" a voice called down.

The man in question let out a withered sigh. "What is it?!" he called back.

"Captain American and his men have been spotted!"

It was almost painful how fast my heart dropped.

Klaus' face brightened and he clapped his hands together. "How wonderful!" he exclaimed before looking down at me. "I shall go fetch them, shall I?" he asked.

"Good luck," I told him, more than hoping that his mutation wasn't something Steve couldn't handle.

He tossed me a wink and walked away, the sound of his feet on stone steps sounding before the door closed once again.

"Jimmy?" I asked as soon as we were along.

"Wmat?" he responded around the gag.

I looked over to him. "Do you think he can actually do it?" I questioned. "Capture Steve?"

He shook his head. "Mo."

I swallowed hard and blinked at the tears that welled in my eyes. "This could ruin everything," I stated. "Everything."

Jimmy let out a small sigh and nodded.

I choked on the panic that rose and looked back up to the light. "Please," I whispered. "Please don't."

* * *

My prayers weren't answered. Less than a half hour later Hydra Agents were marching down the stairs one-by-one with the unconscious Howling Commandos, chaining them to the wall beside Jimmy. While this wasn't all that worrying it was when Klaus dragged a knocked out Captain America down the stairs that I lost what was left of my hope. I watched as the German scientist brought him to what looked like a modified electric chair, clamping my super solider into it before pulling off one of Steve's gloves and rolling up his sleeve.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

Klaus glanced back at me as he wheeled over a silver tray and an IV stand. "I am simply making sure that our superhero won't be making any dashing rescues," he answered, grabbing things from the tray and inserting the needle into Steve's arm.

"What are you giving him?" I asked, watching as he hung the bottle of green liquid from the stand, the tube now attacked to Steve's arm quickly filling with it.

"It is of my own invention," he said. "A lot of everything, really, seeing as who he is. It was difficult though, trying to make sure that he would unable to move but also be alert," he rambled.

I didn't like the sound of that. "Alert?"

He nodded quickly. "I have never had an audience before," he said, "and according to my brother you are of somewhat important to the Captain. I wish to see his reactions to my experiments."

If I didn't want to throw up before I certainly did now. "That seems like something other than a scientific curiosity," I told him.

"It is a physiological curiosity," he agreed. "I dabble in it occasionally. I am curious to see how one handles the torture of a loved one."

I let out a snort. "And what makes you think that I'm one of his loved ones?" I demanded. "You just said that your brother said I was of somewhat importance. How did you get loved one from that?"

"I am going off of a feeling," he explained, tapping the bottle and checking the IV line. "Not very scientific, I know, but this is a special occasion."

I looked over to Jimmy as my panic reared up again, the idea of Steve watching me being dissected more terrifying than actually being dissected.

He hardened his face and gave me a look the three siblings knew far too well. It had been used before firing squads, before hangings, before beheadings, and before Thomas Creed. It was the look that meant 'this is going to hurt but you will survive it'.

I pulled in a calm breath and let it out slowly, turning my head forward once again. "Seigneur me donne la force," I whispered.

"Seigneur vous donne la force."

A jolt went through my at the sound of Gabe's and Jacques' voices. I looked back over and found the Commandos strained against their chains, their eyes wide as they watched me. I gave them all a reassuring smile and looked back to Klaus. "What are you going to do with the others?"

He stopped fussing over Steve to turn towards me. "I have sent a message to Johann, he will be sending for them soon, I believe."

"You're just going to hand over the Super Solider?" I asked, nodding to Steve. "He's a genetic Mutant."

He waved a dismissive wave. "I have no curiosity for the artificial," he stated. "That is more my brother's taste."

There was some form of mercy. "So, have you decided what you're going to do to me first?" I asked.

He tilted his head to the side in thought. "I think I would like to see you come back to life first," he said. "The question is how to kill you."

"There are so many options," I sympathized.

His face brightened. "I think we will let the Captain decide, hmm?"

I had to clench my jaw to keep from arguing with him, knowing that if I paid any interest in Steve he would pick up on it; exploit it. I couldn't have that, not on top of everything else.

Klaus shot me a wide smile before turning back to Steve. "It is time to wake up, Captain America," he said slapping at his cheek.

Steve woke just as I had, a gasp of pain and rapid blinking. He made a valiant effort to pull himself from the chair but the green shit that was running through his veins had already taken effect and he only managed a twitch. "What did you do to me?" he asked with a slur to his words. "Where am I?"

Klaus shook his head. "That is not what you need to worry about," he told him. "At the moment she is your only worry."

"She?" Steve asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"She," Klaus agreed before stepping back to the table. He pulled a lever on the base of the table and it swung up to stand vertically.

I made the effort to keep my face emotionless as I looked Steve over. The corner of his mouth was smeared with blood and a nasty bruise was forming on his temple. I could only imagine what the damage looked like under his uniform.

His baby blues widened once I was level with him, his mouth dropping open. "Ellie?" he breathed.

I clenched my jaw and shook my head lightly.

"The fraulein and I were discussing what I was going to do to her when you and your men were spotted," Klaus explained, leaning against the edge of the table. "I decided to seize the opportunity and brought you down here to enjoy the fun. Now!" he exclaimed, walking off to pull over another tray, this one littered with an array of weapons. "We came to the decision that it would only be fitting for you to pick the first death."

Steve's face paled as he looked between the tray and me. "What?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Klaus arched an eyebrow. "Was I somehow unclear?" he asked. "Pick a weapon and I will kill her with it."

"No," he answered instantly.

The man seemed confused at that. "Why?" he asked. "It's not like she won't come back."

It was Steve's turn for confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised as he looked over to me. "He doesn't know?"

I chose to glare as an answer.

A small chuckle left the scientist. "Oh this is going to be wonderful," he all but cooed. "Ellie, was it?" he asked, pointing to me.

"Eleanor," I corrected, not liking the sound of the nickname coming from him.

He nodded his head in atonement. "Eleanor here is what most people call a Mutant," he said, his voice taking on an almost educational tone. "That means that she has a genetic mutation that makes her a little better than the general public."

Steve's face pinched in confusion but he didn't question it.

"Oh, how to explain," he said, blowing out a breath. "Let's use you an example," he said, gesturing to Steve. "The Super Soldier Serum, it changed you? Altered your cells? Made you more than the average soldier?"

He gave a small nod.

"That is what Eleanor is expect she was born that way," he said, reaching out to pat the top of my head. "Now, she's not exactly like you, of course, while your talents reside in strength hers are more death defying."

Steve still appeared confused.

"How about a demonstration?" Klaus suggested, perking up at the idea. "Please, Captain, pick a weapon," he said, once again motioning to the tray.

Steve swallowed hard and shook his head. "No."

"Please, Captain, I haven't the patience."

He glared up at him. "No."

Klaus pulled in a short breath and stepped towards him.

"Oh for fucks sake just shoot me!" I found myself shouting, the thought of Klaus beating Steve into submission too much to handle.

He paused and looked back to me. "The fraulein chooses her own demise?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I suppose I can't deny you," he mused, grabbing the gun off the tray and stepping back to stand beside Steve. "Where would you like it? Head or heart?"

I sneered. "I believe the head would be more dramatic, don't you think?" I asked, the tremor of rage in my voice unmistakable.

Klaus smirked. "I believe you are right," he agreed, cocking the gun and leveling it with my head.

"No, don't!" Steve pleaded, once again struggling against whatever Klaus had given him. "Don't!"

I kept my gaze locked on Klaus, knowing that if I looked to Steve I would break.

"Loved one indeed," Klaus mused before squeezing the trigger.

The familiar numbness that came with being shot in the head crept through me and I found myself going slack against the straps holding me to the table.

"Ellie!" Steve's voice sounded above the others. "Ellie, no!"

The instinct to reassure him was overshadowed by my quickly fading senses, my vision tunneling and my hearing began to swim. Everything plummeted to black with the muted screams of the men I considered family.

* * *

_**I found myself in the white room that always greeted me in death. The floors were impossibly polished, the walls were gleaming and the ceiling appeared endless. I could feel the ominous presence of the shining red door before me and I refrained from looking back at it, not wanting the headache that would come with it. I screwed my eyes shut and pressed my hand to the spot on my forehead where the bullet had entered, the pain lingering.** _

_**"Hello, Lune Fleur."** _

_**I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips when the voice echoed through the room. "Hello, Morte Fleur," I greeted back, looking up to see my oldest friend.** _

_**She was draped in her usual black dress, the neckline plunging to show her marble-like complexion. "What was it this time?" she questioned, her general curiosity getting the better of her manners.** _

_**I chuckled and tapped the spot on my forehead. "Head shot. Execution style."** _

_**She grimaced. "Who are you with?"** _

_**My stomach churned at that and I resisted the urge to flump to the floor. "Steve and the Commandos," I answered, my tone of voice saying the rest.** _

_**"Oh, Lune," she breathed, stepping forward to kneel before me. "I am so sorry, mon petit chou," she cooed, reaching out to brush my hair back.** _

_**I swallowed hard and shook my head. "It's over. Everything I worked so hard to protect. Everything I have with….with Steve and Buchanan and the others," I rambled, my eyes welling up and spilling over at the thought of what would happen when I woke up. "He's going to think I'm a freak. Like ma mère."** _

_**Morte hummed and pulled me into her arms, the act surprisingly comforting despite her morgue cold body. "Does he love you?" she asked.** _

_**I sniffed and shook my head. "He's never said so," I stated.** _

_**She sighed. "Does she love you?" she asked again.** _

_**"Yes," I gasped, letting myself fall further into her arms.** _

_**She rocked us back and forth. "Then nothing is over, Lune," she told me. "If he truly loves you then it will never be over."** _

_**I shook my head the best I could. "Morte, you don't understand."** _

_**She chuckled lightly. "I understand more than you know," she stated. "Everything will be all right, Lune Fleur."** _

_**I wanted to argue with her but a part of me knew it wouldn't help anything and simply allowed myself to cry in her arms.** _

_**Time worked differently in the white room and it was far from possible to keep track of it, so when I said that I had no idea how much time had passed I wasn't just saying it. I had long since stopped crying when the aching burn started in my forehead.** _

_**"You're going back," Morte told me like she always does.** _

_**I shook my head and clung ot her tighter. "I don't want to," I whispered. "Can't I stay here with you?"** _

_**Morte chuckled kindly and shook her head. "Out of all the times you have asked me that why do you think my answer will be different?" she prompted.** _

_**"Because this time I want to die."** _

_**"No you don't," she denied, once again brushing my hair back. "You want to hide like a scared rabbit instead of the proud wolf that you are. Where is the brave woman I once knew?"** _

_**My frown deepened and I held onto her tighter. "She found something to live for and it terrifies her."** _

_**"Perhaps she should face that terror and make it work for her?" she suggested. "Use it as a motivator and not as a hinder."** _

_**I grimaced as the burn in my head built. "What if he doesn't love me anymore?"** _

_**"Now that is impossible," Morte assured her as she untangled my arms from around me. "Just as it is impossible for you to stay here. Go back to your world and face your terror."** _

_**I wish I could say I wasn't reluctant.** _

_**"Lune Fleur, I hope that when I see you next I can tell you 'I told you so'."** _

_**A humorless laugh left me and I shook my head. "I hope for that as well, Morte Fleur," I told her, pushing myself to my feet and rubbing at my forehead. "See you soon."** _

_**Her smiling up at me what the last thing I saw.** _


	12. Captain America Part 12

Coming back to life has never been described as an easy task. To the more optimistic it's considered a miracle, to the pessimistic it's a sign of the apocalypse, to me it's tedious. The pain that comes with reanimating dead tissue had once haunted my dreams but now it had become the equivalent of a toothache. The term 'like bugs under my skin' often came to mind whenever the bullets made their way out of my skin, the muscles contracting to eject the foreign object. Of course, a bullet to the head required a more critical form of healing. Brain matter had to be reconstructed and stabilized, the information destroyed by the projectile called up from deeper recesses of the mind. The only mercy of it was that waking was gradual, almost like waking up late on a Sunday morning. My consciousness returned once I started breathing again, a shallow inflate as my body worked to get the fluid out of my lungs.

My eyes opened in time to watch the bullet 'chink' onto the concrete. I forced in a deep breath as I raised my head, my neck cracking from the stiffness.

Steve was still immobile in the chair in front of me, his face void of all color and his eyes vacant and bloodshot.

"That is most amazing."

I tore my eyes off Steve to look over his shoulder, Klaus leaning against one of his worktables. I glared at the smug look on his face and raised my chin higher. "You're not the first person to tell me that," I stated.

"No, I imagine not," he said before nodding to one of the others walls.

I hesitated a moment before craning my neck to look over, the knot in my stomach tightening when I saw that he was playing one of the film reels against the brick face. Dr. Zola was in the process of cracking open my ribcage.

"Not the most eloquent work, I have to say," Klaus mused, his arms folding across his chest as he watched Zola take me apart with a criticizing look.

"He's not a medical doctor," I found myself saying, silently berating myself for defending the pug faced mad. "It's a miracle that he knew how to do as much as he did."

He nodded in consideration. "I suppose that's true," he allowed before pulling in a deep breath and pushing off the table. "It is still crude."

A humorless chuckle left me. "And this isn't?" I asked, doing my best to gesture down at me. "You do have me strapped to a table in my underwear."

He gave me a pointed look. "Would you rather I had stripped you completely?" he asked.

I chose not to answer, knowing that was true.

Klaus smirked at that and stopped beside Steve, his hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. "See, Captain? She is alive and well, just like I told you."

Steve blinked at that, the life returning to his baby blues. He slowly raised his head to look at me, the stricken look on his face nearly painful. "Ellie?" he asked, an uncertain note to his tone.

I gave him a small reassuring smile before turning my attention back to Klaus. "Now that your demonstration is over what are you going to do to me?"

He pursed his lips and looked me over. "I was always curious about what would happen if you were to lose a limb," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Would it grow back, would it reattach, or would it simply just remain detached?"

Fear shot down my spine and I strained against the straps. "All three," I answered for him. "It'll grow back after 24 hours if you don't reattach it," I said, wanting nothing more than to remain in one piece.

"You have experience with lose of limb?" he asked as he saddled up to the tray of weapons.

I eyed him as he ran a finger across one of the larger knives. "You know what a grenade can do," I said. "Especially in a trench."

He hummed in agreement. "While I don't disbelieve you, I simply wish to see it for myself," he said, picking up the knife. "I don't suppose that pain killers effect you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Shame," he said, stepping back over to me. "Though I suppose you in pain would contribute to my physiological curiosities," he reasoned.

I gave him a tightlipped smile. "You're unfortunately right. Though I would like to request that you use a bone saw and not that knife," I told him, nodding to it. "It would be easier for the both of us."

Klaus laughed as he nodded. "Of all the test subjects I have had you are proving to be the most cooperative," he stated, tossing the knife back to the tray and walking over to the work bench to grab one of the bone saws.

"I'm not taking that as a compliment," I stated, dropping my head back against the table.

"Oh fraulein, it was not meant as one," he assured me, walking back with a skip in his step. He swung back around the table and pulled the lever, bringing the table horizontal once again. "Now. I myself have never lost a limb but I imagine that it is extremely painful," he all but mused, once again leaning over me. "So I will not hold it against you if you scream."

I couldn't help but scoff at that. "How kind of you."

He didn't seem to appreciate the sarcasm and placed the saw against my forearm. "Brace yourself," he advised me before applying pressure and pulling the serrated blade across my skin.

I clenched my jaw shut as a high-pitched whine of pain shot up my throat, my body tensing against the table in protest. I forced my eyes to stay open, the burning from the overhead lamp keeping the tears away. I could feel my body edge closer and closer to the debilitating shock that came with amputations. I had relative control until he hit the bone. My back arched against the table and a screech of pain ripped from my throat. Each stroke of the saw emitted another scream of pain, my fingers crawling against the metal.

"Almost done, Eleanor," Klaus said as if he was simply giving me a shot.

A choked back gasp left me when the saw broke through the bone and tore through the remaining flesh. The smell of my blood was pungent along with the tang of bone marrow. I could feel my blood spreading out across the surface of the table, soaking into my bra and underwear, effectively ruining any chances of salvaging them. The rapid pounding of my heart in my ear drowned out the sounds of protest coming from the others. My breathing was already growing short and I knew I didn't have much time before I passed out.

"There we go, Eleanor," Klaus said, undoing the strap on my right wrist to lift my now severed arm up. "I hope you don't mind but I would like to run some separate tests on this," he said, holding it up to the light.

I made a show of pulling in a ragged breath and choked out some garbled words.

Klaus frowned and looked back down at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he said with an arched eyebrow.

I mumbled out a few more words.

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Already going into shock," he stated before leaning down closer to me. "What are you trying to say?" he asked.

I smirked at how open he left himself and jerked myself up from the table, my mouth wide as I sank my teeth into the side of his neck.

Klaus' own scream of pain echoed through the basement, his frantic hands dropping my arm and moving to push me away from him.

I clenched my jaw tighter, his blood gushing out and seeping through my teeth and down my chin. The veins and tendons crunched and popped as he tried to pull away from me.

"GUARDS!" Klaus screamed when his attempts to get away from me failed.

The door from before burst open and several of his guards flew down the stairs.

Knowing that if would survive another electrocution I bit off a sizable chunk of his neck and slumped back against the table. I made sure to smile wide, showing off my bloodied teeth and lips.

The guards rushed to the hunched over Klaus, both his hands pressed to his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Wir müssen Sie zum Arzt zu gehen!" one of them exclaimed.

"Sie werden ausbluten!" the other added.

Klaus straightened and looked down at me, the pain on his face mixing with amusement. "It is my own fault," he said. "I should have known better."

I spat out the piece of his neck as an answer.

He chuckled weakly before allowing his henchmen to drag him off up the stairs and to the infirmary.

I turned my head to my now only arm and looked at the leather strap holding it there. I let out a grunt of pain as I twisted and pulled myself towards it. I spat Klaus' blood onto my hand, coating it well enough for it to slip through the shackle. I struggled to push myself up, the lightheartedness from the shock slowing me down. I reached down and undid the buckles around my ankles before throwing my legs over the edge and jumping down. I had expected my knees to give out and was able to brace myself for the impact on the concrete, a grunt of pain leaving me in the process. Bringing my legs under me I crawled over to my discarded arm. I shifted back onto my haunches and grabbed the appendage, pulling it towards me before pressing it back to where it had been severed. I pulled in a sharp breath as the bone knitted back together along with the muscle and nerves. I could feel the shock ebbing away and I managed to push myself to my feet, staggering back slightly as I shuffled over to Klaus' workbench where a sink was waiting.

The water was cold and stained pink as soon as it was brought to my face. I scrubbed at my face, wanting every bit of the Nazis doctor off of me. I craned my neck under the facet and slurped in a mouthful of the water, swishing it around and grimacing at the taste of blood it awakened. I spat it out into the sink and did it once more before turning the sink off and leaning against the table. I dropped my head down and forced myself to take several deep breaths.

"Ellie?"

The name was spoken so softly that I almost missed it. A shiver running up my spine as I turned to look to Steve. My breath hitched when I saw the look on his face, an expression of pure concern. I felt my throat constrict and my eyes well with tears when I realized that he didn't hate me, that he wasn't disgusted. I choked on the sob that left me as the tears spilled over.

The look of concern quickly changed to panic as he shook his head the best he could. "Aw, Ellie, no," he said, once again struggling against Dr. Schmidt's concoction. "Don't cry, honey."

I brought a hand up to cover my mouth, muffling some of the noise. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry."

"None of this is your fault," he stated, that firm tone back in his voice.

I shook my head. "None of this would have happened if I had just told you the truth," I argued, the familiar knot that the subject brought twisting in my stomach. "I should have just told you."

"Ellie, I don't-"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the door once again.

I hastily wiped at my cheeks and managed a sneer as I looked up to the guard that had appeared.

"Was machst du da?" he demanded, his eyes locked on me as he started down the stairs. "Holen Sie sich wieder auf den Tisch!" he ordered, pointing to the blood stained slab.

I stayed where I was, really not having the energy to do anything too spontaneous. "Was werden Sie tun, wenn ich nicht?" I asked.

A startled laugh left him. "Ich muss Sie zwingen," he answered, sounding awfully sure of himself.

"Dann müsste ich dich töten," I told him.

He scoffed and stepped down from the stairs. "Ihre Drohungen bedeuten mir nichts," he stated, walking over and stopping in front of me. "Ich bin nicht Angst vor dir."

I almost gave him a sympathetic smile. "You should be," I told him before lunging forward. I managed to cover his mouth and swing my arm up into his ribcage at the same time, my spikes piercing through his lungs. I followed him to the floor as he let out a muffled groan of pain. A moment passed before I retracted my spikes and begun rooting through his pockets, silently praying that he would have keys. I let out a small sigh of relief when I found a set in his inside pocket. "Small mercy," I muttered, pushing myself to my feet and shuffling over to my brother. I went through the first five keys were the cuff popped open and released his hand, a grunt of appreciation leaving him as he reached down to pull the gag out of his mouth.

"Good work, lil' sis," he praised, bring his arm up to wrap around my waist in an odd hug.

My lips twitched into a small smile as I unlocked his remaining cuff. "Will you get that damn IV out of Steve's arm?" I requested, moving on to get Bucky free.

Jimmy nodded, seeming to understand my want of avoidance and pushed himself to his feet. "Sure thing, Lizzy," he agreed, stepping past me towards Steve.

I resisted the urge to look back at them and unlocked Bucky's first cuff.

"Beth," he said, his free hand coming up to grab mine, "why don't you go find your clothes before you give all of us heart attacks, huh?" he suggested. "I can get the rest."

I looked down at my bloodstained underwear, honestly a little amused that he didn't mention the fact that I was wearing a pair of skivvies instead of a garter belt. "Yeah, because I'm looking all sorts of alluring today," I said but still handed him the keys.

He cracked a smile up at me. "Don't sell yourself so short," he told me.

I shook my head and wandered back over to Klaus' workbench. "Jimmy, where'd he put my clothes?" I asked, purposefully not looking over at him.

"Far right corner, same as last time," he answered.

I grimaced and walked over, disappointment filling me when I saw the burlap sacks. I grabbed the closest one and pulled out the bundle of clothes the consisted of my uniform. I untangled the black sweater I had stolen from Victor and tugged it over my head, what little of his scent that remained bringing some comfort. I shook out my pants before slipping into them, not bothering to tuck the sweater in as I did them up. I didn't bother with socks as I crammed my feet into my boots, jerking the laces tight and tying them off. A grimace pulled at my face as I pulled on my jacket, the pain in my arm still throbbing. I zipped it up and cinched the belt around my waist. I hummed in appreciation of the familiar feel and reached into the sack again for my gun and knife. "Jimmy?" I asked as I reattached them.

"Yeah, Lizzy?" he asked.

"There are five sacks not including mine," I told him, my voice cracking.

"Shit," he cursed.

I pulled in a deep breath as I scanned the room for the freezers, finding them in the in the shadow of the wooden stairs. "This ends here, Jimmy," I said. "We're killing this son of a bitch."

"If you don't, I will," Timothy stated, pushing himself to his feet and rubbing at his wrists. "Are you okay, Eleanor?"

I shifted my stance and nodded, honestly a little surprised that he wasn't more freaked out. "How about you fellas?" I questioned, looking to the others.

They all nodded, each rubbing at whatever part of them was aching.

"So," Gabe started, looking between Jimmy and I, "you wanna explain what's going on?"

I shook my head. "You will all be debriefed when we get back to base," I told him.

He let out a humorless laugh. "You mean if we make it back to base."

"This is no different than any other factory raid, we're simply on the inside this time," I assured him. "No one is going to die."

"You did," Jim spoke up.

"I don't count."

"The hell you don't."

I jumped at the sound of Steve's voice and looked over to find him on his feet, his arm thrown over Jimmy's shoulder.

He fixed me with that determined look of his as he shuffled over to us. "You died, Ellie, we're not going to forget that."

I cleared my throat and dropped my eyes to the floor. "No, I didn't expect you to," I said.

Jimmy saw my discomfort and cleared his throat. "What I want to know is what kind of mutation he has," he stated.

Confusion twisted across their faces.

"His what?"

"There is no way that he knocked Captain America out without some help," Jimmy pointed out. "So what did he do?" he asked, this time looking up to Steve.

The Super Soldier shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it," he said. "A grenade went off at his feet and the blast just seemed to…..go into him," he explained, grimacing at it. "Next thing we know he's waving his arms and things are blowing up."

I grimaced and shook my head. "That sounds like energy absorption and expulsion," I mused.

Jimmy snarled at that. "If that's true then we're fucked," he stated.

"Your optimism is astounding," Buchanan deadpanned, giving my brother a pointed look. "I thought no one was going to die."

"None of you are going near Klaus," I stated, looking to each of them with a glare. "He's Jimmy and I's responsibility and will be treated as such. Your only worry is taking the factory."

"Ellie," Steve said, the argument already in his voice.

"No, Steve," I denied.

His jaw clenched in defiance but he didn't argue further.

"That's all very well and done, but how are we going to get out of this bloody basement?" Falsworth demanded, gesturing around us.

Jimmy looked over to me. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Russia?" I asked, already not liking it.

He nodded.

I sighed and pulled my jacket off. "I trust you won't let anything happen to this," I said, holding it out to Steve.

He seemed confused but took it all the same. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"We're going to cause a distraction," Jimmy answered, pulling Buchanan over to take his place under Steve's arm. "We'll draw their attention to the other end of the factory."

"It should buy you enough time to get the advantage," I added. "But if you see Klaus get out of his way," I told them, stepping back to crouch beside the Hydra agent I had killed. I pulled his machine gun free and grabbed the spare magazines. "Jimmy," I said, tossing it back to him.

He caught them easily and threw the strap over his shoulder. "Give us a three minute head start before you start anything."

"Three?" I asked with a snort. "Took us half a minute in Russia."

Jimmy gave a nod. "True, but they were convinced we were Werewolves. Any sensible person would run if the Werewolves got loose."

"I suppose so," I agreed, grabbing the guard's sidearm before getting back to my feet. "I guess we have our work cut out for us, huh?"

He let out a laugh. "That we do."

"Let me get this straight, you two are going to run up there and get the attention of the whole factory?" Timothy asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. "You do know that that means their guns too, right? The ones with the bullets and the ones with the glowy bits."

Jimmy shrugged as he looked back at him. "It won't keep us down for long," he assured him. "We've made it through heavier in one piece before."

"So you're like her?" Jim asked, pointing to me.

Jimmy's jaw clenched as he squeezed his hand closed, his own spikes breaking through the skin. "She's my sister, ain't she?" he questioned back, the growl unmistakable in his voice.

I sighed and reached out to smack his shoulder. "Come on, let's go," I told him.

He relaxed slightly and retracted his spikes. "Three minutes," he reminded them before pushing past them towards the stairs.

I followed after him, ducking the looks from the others.

"Ellie, wait," Steve said, catching my arm and pulling me to a stop.

I looked down at his hand, surprised by how gentle his grip was. "What, Steve?" I asked, my voice softer than I had wanted it to be.

"I can't let you do this," he stated. "It's suicide."

A sour smile twisted at my lips. "Then it's a good think I can't die, huh?" I asked, pulling my arm back and continuing up the stairs, jogging to catch up to my brother. "Are you ready for this?" I asked once I was close enough.

"As ready as I ever am," he answered before slinking through the door.

I followed after him, scanning the factory floor as I closed the door behind me. I crouched down as we ran to the nearest cover.

We spent the first minute this way, making our way to the far end of the building.

"D'you think that'll make a good distraction?" Jimmy asked, gesturing to the fuel tank by the trucks.

"I don't think it'd make a poor one," I answered.

He laughed and fired off two bullets, one piercing through the metal and the other sending off a spark.

The explosion ripped through the factory, the Hydra agents standing close enough getting caught in the flames.

"So," Jimmy started, "I think the Captain took the whole thing pretty well," he mused, raising his gun to fire at the quickly approaching agents.

"I don't want to talk about it, Jimmy."

"You're going to have to eventually," he pointed out.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," I told him, turning my attention to the agents on the catwalk, shooting down the closest ones.

He snorted. "You'll burn that bridge when you get to it," he corrected.

"Since when has tha-" I cut off when a connecting bullet threw my shoulder back. "Since when has that been an issue?" I repeated, shooting back at the agent who had managed to actually hit me.

"Since you fell in love with the guy," he stated.

I didn't have the heart to deny that.

"What did Morte say?" he pressed. "I know you talked to her."

I tensed at that. "She said that if he loves me then it wouldn't matter," I answered, taking out another two agents. "But she's wrong."

"When the fuck has Morte ever been wrong?" he asked, pausing to look down at me. "Lizzy, the man loves you, there's no questioning that," he said, "and the way he's been acting towards you? It doesn't seem to matter to him."

"It's just shock," I dismissed.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Eleanor, why can't you just be happy?!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, glaring up at him.

"It means that you're so set on believing that he'll reject you that you won't accept any other option."

"I am not," I argued.

"We both know that's a goddamn lie," he said. "If he was going to reject you then he wouldn't have given a rats ass that you were crying. He wouldn't have told you that it wasn't your fault. He wouldn't have tried to stop you from coming up here."

My jaw clenched and I looked away from him, hating the fact that he was right. I gripped my gun tighter and shook my head. "I thought we were done arguing about this."

He let out a humorless laugh. "You're the one who keeps arguing with us," he stated.

"Oh shut up," I muttered, taking out two more of the agents.

The next few minutes were spent catching the few lucky bullets and picking off Hydra agents. We weren't completely annoyed till the both of us ran out of ammo.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Jimmy demanded, craning his neck to look back the way we had we had come.

I shoved my gun back into its holster and extended my spikes. "We're going to have to go manual," I told him.

"Fine, but you're digging the bullets out," he agreed before running out towards the closest agent.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and went the opposite direction. In all honesty this had always been easier for me than using a gun. It was probably due to the fact that all through the Civil War I had forgone my musket and relied heavily on my spikes. After a while the one-off musket became a prop for all three of us, the time and effort it took to load it was far from worth it. Taking a running start at another stack of crates I launched myself up to the catwalk, grabbing hold of the bottom railing and pulling myself up.

"Da ist sie!" a Hydra agent shouted, pointing to me as he ran down the grated walkway towards me.

I started towards him, the new terrain confining my options but I saw no point in complaining. A smile twitched at my lips when the man stumbled to the stop when he realized that I wasn't going to and raised his gun. The bullet bit into my shoulder a moment later but it was far from a deterrent as I slammed into him, the force sending him back and over the railing.

"Jesus Christ!"

My eyebrows shot up before I looked down to where the body had landed and found a startled Timothy Dugan less than a foot away from it. "Sorry!" I called.

His head snapped up to look at me, his startled look turning into shock. "Eleanor?!" he called back.

I waved to him before continuing down the walkway, my eyes locked on the floor as I attempted to locate the rest of the Commandos. I found Gabe, Jim, and Jacques in relatively good shape while Falsworth looked a little rumpled. I caught a glimpse of Bucky and knew that Steve wouldn't be too far, the fact that they were together giving me some small peace of mind.

"Lizzy!"

I looked down to find Jimmy standing under me, his face and clothes splattered with blood.

"Get to the infirmary!"

"Where the hell do you think I'm going?!"

His was response was to flip me off.

I scoffed and pushed away from the railing. "I just have to find it," I muttered, scanning the walls for a convenient sigh or map. "Nazis are so unhelpful," I grumbled, dropping my head back and pulling in a deep breath. My face twisted into disgust at the overwhelming smell of gunpowder, blood, and smoke but was a little relieved when I picked up the small traces of medical supplies. "All the way in the back."

On the list of things that disturb me during war time hospitals were at the very top. While they were infinitely better than what passed for a hospital during the Civil War they were still nightmare worthy. They always looked the same, white tiles stained yellow from lack of cleaning and the instruments always seemed to be rusted with blood. The smell of death and decay seemed to seep out of the walls and it stayed with you for days.

"You are older than you look, aren't you?"

I paused just inside, the doors swinging shut behind me. "Isn't that considered rude?" I countered, catching sight of the figure moving behind the changing screen. "I know that back in my day it was a serious social offense."

"Back in your day?" he asked. "You betray more than you think."

I shrugged despite him not being able to see me. "Not really. You wouldn't have asked me if you didn't already know," I reasoned.

"I have a theory, not a fact," he corrected. "So, the answer?"

"Let me hear your theory first," I requested.

"I theorize that due to your hyper healing you will be able to live at least three times longer than the natural lifespan of a human," he said. "That being said it's awfully illogical for me to assume that you are the age you look."

"Illogical indeed," I mused. "Would you mind giving me an educated guess on how old I am?"

He was quiet for a moment before he stepped out from behind the screen, his hands fussing with his clean uniform. "If I had not seen your eyes I would have said under fifty," he admitted, a smirk pulling at his lips, "but I have seen your eyes and they hold the same look my father had."

"And what look is that?"

"War," he answered simply. "World War 1?"

I nodded my head to the side. "Well, you're not wrong," I allowed. "The American Civil War was my first."

An impressed look swept over his face. "Three wars. Tell me, why do you keep fighting?" he asked, making small steps towards me. "Most people who have seen war spend the rest of their lives trying to avoid it, but you? You willingly participate."

"I don't like bullies," I found myself saying, surprising even myself.

He seemed amused by that. "I suppose I am a bully," he agreed. "But sometimes, in order to become stronger there needs to be a bully, yes?"

"A necessary evil."

"Exactly."

"I wouldn't called you necessary in any use of the word," I told him. "You or your brother."

Klaus let out a hum. "You have met my brother then," he mused before nodding. "I would have to agree with you on that part, he is far from necessary."

"That surprises me," I admitted. "I would have thought that you two were close. Given the fact that he lets you conduct your experiments in his factories."

He laughed at that. "Please, like Johann would be able to stop me," he said, shaking his head with a bright smile. "He has always been envious of my mutation, saying that he would have something better."

"He created the Super Soldier Serum out of envy towards you?" I asked, pointing to him in disbelief.

"I'm afraid so," he answered. "Though I cannot tell you the reason behind Hydra. That has always been a mystery to me," he said, letting his eyes wander around the infirmary. "Wanton grandeur I suppose."

Any hope of using him as leverage started slipping away. "So you're not close?"

"Far from it," he said, turning his attention back to me. "Resentment never breeds a healthy sibling relationship. The only reason I'm not dead is because he hasn't managed to kill me yet, a task I know he will never see through."

I nodded. "Energy absorption is a tricky thing to get around," I mused, wondering myself how I was going to do just that. "I see that my attempt has already healed," I said, eyeing the now scared skin of his neck.

"You caught me by surprise, I will admit," he said, reaching up to rub a hand across the spot. "You're one of the few people who has managed to do that."

"I'll consider myself special then."

"Oh, Fraulein," he sighed, giving me a soft smile, "you were special far before you met me."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

Klaus laughed once again and nodded. "I suppose I deserve that."

"Oh, you deserve a lot more than that," I told him, squaring my shoulders and clenching my hands at my side.

"Also true," he agreed, stopping in front of me with an almost nonchalant manner. "Sadly, you won't be the one giving it to me," he said before jabbing his hand into my chest.

I was suddenly flying backwards, my chest already throbbing from the force Klaus had used. A grunt left me as I flew through the double doors and slammed into the ground, the impact causing me to roll several feet before ramming into a support beam. A choked gasp left me as I rolled onto my back, my lungs struggling to pull in air.

"I apologize, that was a bit harder than I had intended," Klaus said, stepping through the doors. "Captain America packs quite a bit of energy when he's angry."

It didn't really surprise me that that had been one of Steve's punches, seeing first hand just how far he could throw someone when prompted. I had always hoped that I would never find out what it felt like.

"I hope that you hold no illusions of taking me into custody," he said, stopping beside me to look down. "While my actions do warrant you to do just that I'm not quite finished with my work."

I managed a sarcastic laugh. "You're not…working…you're just…curious."

"Ah, Fraulein, curiosity is work," he told me before raising his foot and brining it down onto my chest.

No sound escaped me as my ribcage and the floor around me broke, the familiar force of a grenade washing over my body. I could feel the places my broken bone pierced, three ribs in my lungs, one in my stomach, and one in my heart.

"Auf Wiedersehen," he sing songed before stepping away.

My attempt to call for Jimmy had me choking on a mouthful of blood, the copper and salt tasting fluid running down the corners of my mouth. Trying to move my arms sent of a spasm of blinding pain through my body and I decided it wasn't worth it. For the second time today I was going to die, and this time it was considerably less pleasant.

"Ellie!" Steve's voice sounded before he was on his knees beside me. "Oh, God, Ellie," he said, his voice almost a whimper as he hovered his hands hesitantly over me. "It's okay, honey, you're okay," he assured me.

I couldn't help but smile at that, amused and amazed that he was still worried about me even though he knew I couldn't die. I swallowed down the blood and gasped down as much air as I could. "I'll be….okay," I managed out.

He shook his head quickly. "Don't-don't try to talk," he said.

I shook my head the best I could. "Klaus," I said, making the effort to point in the direction the man had gone.

He looked away from me long enough to call for my brother before his attention was back on me. "Ellie, what can I do?" he asked, still hesitant about touching me.

That's when a cruel thought entered my head. "Hold…m-me?" I asked, remembering all the times Victor or Jimmy had held me as the world faded away. The knowledge that I wasn't alone somehow making it a little more bearable.

His eyes darted down to my chest. "Wouldn't that hurt you?"

I gave him another smile. "S'okay," I assured him, moving my arms towards him.

He took the hint and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up high enough so he could slid under me.

I clenched my jaw and did my best to ignore the pain, knowing it would only be a few more minutes before I was gone. The new angle helped keep the blood clear of my throat and it was a little easier to breath.

"You'll come back, right?" he asked, looping one arm around my waist while the other went to my hair.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

Steve let out a shuddering breath and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"What happened?!" Jimmy demanded when he spotted us, running over.

Steve looked up to him. "Klaus," he answered. "Ellie says he went that way," he explained, nodding over to the infirmary doors.

Jimmy nodded and took off.

I pulled in as deep of a breath as I could. "I-I'm sor-sorry," I stuttered out, the feeling in my toes and fingers already going.

He shook his head. "Ellie, honey, no," he said, his voice cracking. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."

I wanted to tell him how wrong he was about that but I couldn't seem to pull in the necessary air. My eyes were growing heavy and my heartbeat was growing slower. I brought one of my hands up to rest over his, my fingers curling around it as tightly as I could manage.

"Ellie?" he asked, seeming to know what was coming. "I'll be here when you wake up, okay? I'm not going to leave you."

It was almost ridiculous how okay that made the whole thing. I felt my grip slack on his hand and my vision tunneled.

* * *

_**"Two visits in one day? Don't I feel special," Morte said, smiling down at me.** _

_**I let out a groan and flopped back onto the floor. "Yeah, special something," I muttered.** _

* * *

I was thrown back into my body with a gasp, my muscles tensing and throwing me up into a sitting position. I struggled through a few more breaths before lunging head first into a coughing fit, my back hunching forward as my hands came up to cover my mouth. A pool of blood was leaking through my fingers by the time I was able to breath properly but the moment of relief was over when my stomach rolled and saliva filled my mouth. I managed to lean over the side of the table I was laying on before a stomach's worth of blood came back up my throat. The dark blood splattered down onto the yellow stained tiles, the sight of it making me even more nauseous.

"Well that's disgusting," the unmistakable voice of James Buchanan Barnes stated.

"Shut up, Buck," Steve's said before hands were rubbing across my shoulders. "You okay, Ellie?" he asked.

I screwed my eyes shut and groaned, the taste in my mouth making me wanting to throw up all over again.

Jimmy's laugh sounded. "She hates the taste of her own blood," he explained. "Come on, Lizzy."

I looked up and found him standing in front of me, a glass of water and a surgery bowl in his hands. I let out a sigh and took the glass, pulling in a mouthful and swishing it around my mouth before spitting it out into the bowl. I continued this till the glass was empty and there was only a mild aftertaste. "Thanks, Jimmy," I said, flashing him a smile as he took the glass back.

"Sure thing, lil' sis," he said.

I pulled in a deep breath and straightened myself out, turning my head to look over to Steve. "How long was I out?" I asked.

"Twenty minutes. How do you feel?" he asked, watching me almost cautiously.

"Alive," I answered with a humorless laugh. "Glad to see the rest of you are the same," I mused, turning my attention to the other men in the room. "Nothing too serious, I hope."

While they all looked a little worse for wear they appeared to be in one piece.

"We're fine, Lizbeth," Buchanan assured me.

Timothy nodded. "Yeah, uh, your distraction worked."

"Good to see it all wasn't in vain," I said grimacing when Steve's hand brushed against a still open wound. I shifted away from him and wretched my arm back to reach it. A grunt of discomfort left me as my fingers dug into the wound, my fingernails managing to make purchase on the metal slug.

"Ellie, what are you doing?" Steve asked, sounding uneasy.

I wiggled the bullet free and righted my arm, pinching the copper projectile between my fingers to show him. "Sometimes they get stuck," I told him.

His eyebrows shot up at he looked at it. "Huh."

A small smile twitched at my lips and I let my arm fall back to the table. "Jimmy, what's the status on Klaus?" I asked, already knowing that he wasn't in our custody.

"He's in the wind," he answered, tossing the surgery bowl and glass into one of the sinks. "I lost his scent about a mile on the main road, someone picked him up."

A frustrated growl left me. "What about Johann?"

He shook his head. "Another transmission was sent out during out distraction," he answered. "Tellin' him to steer clear cause things were out of control."

"Dammit," I grumbled, throwing the bullet across the room. "What else can go wrong today?" I asked, spinning around on the table and jumping down.

Steve stepped closer to me, his hands shooting out to grab my waist. "Easy, Ellie," he warned.

"I'm okay, soldier," I assured him, reaching up to pat his chest. "I recover quick, remember?"

He cleaned his throat and nodded. "Uh, yeah, Jimmy explained," he said.

"Oh good, one less thing for me to do," I mused, honestly relieved that I didn't have to try and explain. "Have you packed up the lab?"

"I got the bodies and personal effects squared away but I left the research to you," Jimmy answered, shaking his head. "You're the only one who would understand any of it."

A soft laugh left me. "You can thank Erskine for that," I said, patting Steve's chest once again before stepping out of his hold. "It should only take me a few minutes to go through it all," I told them, heading for the swinging doors.

"Lizzy, there was a kid."

"What?" I asked, stopping to look back at him.

"In the freezers. There was a kid."

I wish I could say that I hadn't been anticipating it. Children wouldn't think to hide their mutations, they wouldn't understand what it meant. Klaus getting his hands on one was horrible but it wasn't shocking. I pulled in a deep breath and looked back to the doors. "Sometimes I really hate this world," I murmured, stepping forward and pushing through to the factory floor.

* * *

The tension in Chester's office was giving me a headache. While the office itself wasn't large enough to accommodate all the Howling Commandos not to mention Steve, Jimmy, Howard, and I as well. Steve and I had been prompted to sit in the two chairs before Chester's desk, the others standings or leaning in the available space behind us. In an act of mercy Jimmy had stationed himself behind me, his hand clamped down on my shoulder in an act of solidarity. He knew that the questions Chester would ask me had the potential to send me into one of my moods.

The man in question had been staring at the folders in front of him for the past few minutes, seeming to soak in the information from Steve's previous report. "So…" he trailed off, letting the papers fall. "What'd you find out on your end?"

I dragged my eyes away from the top of his desk to look to him, not at all surprised to see him watching her. "Well, we were right in our suspicion of Klaus being Johann's brother," I decided to start with. "Though there's no love lost between them. Klaus agreed with me when I called Johann unnecessary."

Chester grumbled at that. "So using him as leverage is out then?"

I screwed up my face and shook my head. "Not if we use him right," I said. "Klaus told me that Johann first started the Super Soldier Serum in an attempt to be better than him."

He arched his eyebrow at that. "Better than him in what way?"

I pulled in a deep breath and shifted in the uncomfortable chair. "Klaus is a Mutant. He has the ability to absorb and expel energy however he chooses."

"Holy shit," Howard said, looking over to me with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

I nodded.

"Then what the hell are the experiments for?" Chester demanded.

I shrugged. "He said that he couldn't dissect himself," I answered. "They're an attempt to satiate a curiosity."

"He's killed dozens of people for curiosity?"

"People have done more for less," Jimmy stated, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

Chester huffed. "So how do you want to use him?"

"Well, if I was attempting to out stage my brother I would want him to be there when I did," I reasoned. "If we can get our hands on him and spread the word that we're planning on executing him, there's a high probability that Johann will attempt to get him back."

"If we can get our hands on him?" he repeated. "What do you mean 'if'?"

I let out a sigh and rubbed a hand across my forehead. "Chester, with what Klaus is able to do it's going to take a miracle for any of us to even land a finger on him," I told him. "As much as I hate to even suggest it I think our efforts would be better spent focusing on Johann."

"What?"

The surprised question was asked by Steve, the Super Solider looking down at me with a distressed look on his face.

"Ellie, this bastard has been-"

"I know what he's been doing," I cut in, keeping my eyes on Chester, "but in terms of ending the war Johann is the bigger priority. Klaus will still be there when it's over."

Steve shook his head. "Ellie…" he trailed off.

"I suggest we keep the option of actively capturing Klaus Schmidt off the table unless the opportunity falls into our lap," I said, hating the words even before they left my mouth.

Chester watched me for a long moment before letting out a sigh of his own. "It's your mission, your decision," he said, a surprisingly understanding tone to his voice. "You're going to continue your work with the labs?"

I nodded, swallowing hard to keep the growl down my throat.

Jimmy's hand squeezed once again, his fingers digging into my shoulder painfully but oddly it was reassuring.

Chester seemed to notice the exchange and gave a small nod. "Alright," he agreed, leaning back in his chair. "You're all dismissed," he said, addressing the rest of the room.

I was the first one up and out of the office, the headache pounding in my skull practically screaming at me to get into the open. I ignored the calls that followed after me and marched down the halls till I was standing on the street in the cold morning air. I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, the open space making it easier to breathe. A hand dug into one of my many pockets and pulled out my cigarettes. Clenching one between my teeth I flicked my lighter and inhaled sharply, the end flaring up before smoke billowed out. I let it out in a sigh, my head dropping back as my eyes crammed shut.

"I told the fellas to give you some space."

I cracked an eye open and looked back at my brother. "Thank you," I told him.

He nodded before grimacing. "You look like hell, Lizzy."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Yes, well, I was shot in the head last night," I reminded him. "Plus my arm was cut off. I think looking like hell can be afforded."

Jimmy sighed and walked forward, his arm coming up to wrap around my waist. "Come on, let's head to the hotel," he said, already moving me in the right direction.

* * *

**German conversation #1**

**Guard 1: We must go to the doctor**

**Guard 2: You are bleeding!**

**German conversation #2**

**Guard: What are you doing there? Get back on the table!**

**Eleanor: What will you do if I do not?**

**Guard: I have to force you**

**Eleanor: Then I would have to kill you**

**Guard: Your threats mean nothing to me. I'm not afraid of you**

**German Conversation #3**

**Guard: There she is**


	13. Captain America Part 13

_I was huddled against one of the trees, my hole filled blanket pulled tight around my shoulders as I watched the snow battle with the camp fire. Dawn was a few minutes away and the small moment of false peace would soon be over._

" _Ellie."_

_My head snapped up to look where Steve's voice had come from but he wasn't there. My eyebrows pulled together and I looked in the other direction. "Steve?" I asked, my tone skeptical._

" _Ellie."_

_I jumped to my feet and spun around to face the tree, freezing when I found myself standing in Klaus' lab. Almost instantly the panic started, my breathing growing heavy and my pulse quickening. I swallowed hard and wrapped my arms around my waist, fighting the urge to shrink back against the wall._

" _Ellie."_

_I blinked and suddenly he was there, standing a few feet away from me. "Steve," I said, not even bothering to hide my relief. "Steve, what are we doing here?" I asked, walking towards him._

_He shook his head and stepped back, a look of disgust and defense on his face. "What are you?"_

_I froze in shock. "What?" I asked._

_His lip curled as he looked me over. "What are you?"_

_I looked down at myself and let out a yelp when I found blood and spikes. "Oh God," I whimpered, trying my hardest to retract the spikes but having no luck._

" _What the hell are you?" Steve asked again, his voice the harshest I had ever heard it._

_I shook my head. "Steve, I don't-"_

" _You're not Human," he stated. "You're a freak."_

_My chest began to cave in and tears sprang to my eyes. "What? Steve-"_

" _What is wrong with you?" he demanded, changing his stance and starting towards me._

_I instinctually backed up, my eyes widened as fear mixed with the panic. "I don't-"_

" _Did you really think I would stay with you when I found out?" he asked, his jaw clenched as he looked down at me. "That I would want anything to do with a monster like you."_

" _M-monster?" I asked, my voice cracking as the tears started. "I'm not a monster."_

_He let out a scoff. "We both know that's a lie."_

_I jolted with a gasp when my back hit the wall, my hands fumbling back to press against the bricks. "Steve, please," I pleaded, pressing my hands against the brick. "I know I lied to you-"_

" _No, Ellie, you didn't lie to me," he denied, a twisted smirk pulling at his lips. "Lying to me would mean that I asked you if you were a freak and you told me no," he explained. "Why on God's green earth would I think to ask you that? Why would I even wonder if the woman I love is a freak? A monster? No, why would I think that?" he asked, stopping less than a foot away from me._

_I shrank away from him, my head turning away as my vision blurred over. "I'm s-sorry," I choked out._

" _I can't believe that I didn't see it," he continued, leaning closer to me. "It's amazing what you overlook when you're in love, huh? All the little comments you've made like they're goddamn inside jokes," he sneered. "Was it a joke, Ellie? Was all of this just some sick joke to see how far you could go?"_

_I shook my head desperately. "No," I sobbed._

" _Would you have considered it over when we got married? When we had kids?" he questioned, his hands coming up to brace against the wall on either side of my head. "Were you going to make me explain that mommy is a monster?"_

_A keening whine left me as I pressed harder into the wall._

" _How could you do this to me, Ellie?" he asked, his voice going a little softer. "How could you let me fall in love with you? Knowing what would happen? How could you be so selfish?"_

_My knees gave out and I slid down the wall, my arms coming up to wrap around my knees, hugging them close as I curled into myself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I chanted, shaking my head._

" _It's a little late for that, Ellie," he told me, sneering down at me again. "There's nothing you can do to make this okay."_

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."_

"Lizzy."

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."_

"Lizzy, wake up."

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

"Lizzy!"

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

* * *

Nightmares, in my family, were far from uncommon. In fact, it was odd if one of wasn't suffering from them. During the Civil War it had been Victor, World War 1 it was Jimmy, and now it was me. Over the years we had found various ways to recover from the terrors, each specific to the sibling. Victor likes tearing things apart, often destroying perfectly good furniture and walls. Jimmy found it easiest to cope if he kept moving, sometimes taking off for days only to return with donuts and a wide smile. I on the other hand am partial to ridiculously long bathes, so long, in fact, that the water would be stone cold by the time I got out. This being known to all three of us that it didn't really surprise me that Jimmy had filled the tub before waking me up.

"You going to be okay?" he asked, picking my robe up from the floor and hanging it on the back of the door.

I hugged my knees tighter and let out a hum. "What time is it?"

"Past midnight," he answered. "You've been asleep all day."

I wish I could say that surprised me.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"You already know what it was about," I reminded him, keeping my eyes focused on the taps.

He sighed. "Doesn't mean there isn't anything to talk about," he argued, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms. "We always talk about them."

"This is different," I whispered.

"Because it's Steve?"

I opted for a simple nod.

He was quiet for a moment. "Lizzy, you haven't had one this bad in years," he stated, the concern not amiss in his voice. "I could hear you a floor down."

I glanced over at him. "I was screaming?" I asked, not remembering that part.

Jimmy shook his head. "Sobbing," he corrected.

I grimaced and looked back to the taps. "Do you think anyone else heard?"

"Oh yeah."

"Fuck," I growled, dropping my head forward to rest it on my knees.

"Talk to me, Lizzy," he all but pleaded.

I sighed and made an attempt at deciding where to start. "Do you remember that dream I used to have about our mother?"

His face twisted in remembrance. "You just telling me about it gave me nightmares."

"It was that but Steve," I said, clearing my throat. "He called me selfish for letting him fall in love with me. He asked if it was all a joke and how far I would have taken it, if he would have had to explain that mommy is a monster."

Jimmy pushed off the sink and took a step forward. "Wait," he said, holding his hands up. "'Mommy'? Lizzy, you don't want kids."

"I said that I didn't want to bring kids into our lifestyle but with Steve? A life with Steve would…." I trailed off, shaking my head.

"It would change everything," he finished, a knowing look on his face. "You would really start a family?"

A smile twitched at my lips at the thought of a child with Steve's smile and baby blues. "It wouldn't be so bad," I mused.

He let out a surprised laugh. "I never would have thought it," he stated, shaking his head. "You with a pack of pups nipping at your ankles."

My smile turned bitter. "Yeah, well, that might not be an option anymore."

"And why not?" he demanded. "Lizzy, you haven't said anything to him since we left the factory. How do you know anything's changed?"

I looked over to him. "How could it not?" I challenged. "Even if he still…..loves me, it's going to change things."

He shook his head in denial. "You don't know that for sure until you've talked to him."

A part of me knew he was right but I couldn't get dream Steve's voice out of my head. "I think I like not knowing better," I said. "It's easier to-to lie to yourself when you don't have all the facts."

"You can't live like that forever," he told me. "Neither can Steve."

I shook my head. "No, but I'm going to drag it out for as long as I can."

Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh but didn't argue with me. "Do you want anything else?" he asked. "Some food? A stiff drink?"

My smile twitched back. "No, I'll be okay," I told him, reaching a hand out towards him.

He stepped forward and grabbed my hand.

"Thank you, Jimmy."

He scoffed and squeezed my hand. "You don't have to thank me, Lizzy. I'd do anything for you."

I cleared my throat again and nodded. "I know."

He squeezed my hand once more before letting it go. "I'll come check on you in a few hours, alright?"

"Alright," I agreed, pulling my arm back and securing it back around my knees. "Be careful."

"Always am," he said with a wink before heading out, pulling the door closed behind him.

I watched the door for a moment before uncurling, my back pressing against the porcelain while my feet raised to touch the taps. A deep sigh left me as my arms sunk down into the scalding water, the heat seeming to seep out all the negative energy. A pleased hum left me as I allowed myself a moment of peace, my eyes slipping closed.

* * *

**Day by day**

**I'm falling more in love with you**

**And day by day**

**My love seems to grow**

**There isn't any end to my devotion**

**It's deeper, dear, by far**

**Than any ocean**

My eyes fluttered open to the familiar crooning of Frank Sinatra. An involuntary shiver ran through me as I acknowledged how cold the water has gotten. I looked back to the door to find it still closed and pulled myself up, the colder air sending goosebumps across my body.

**I find that day by day**

**You're making all my dreams come true**

**So come what may**

**I want you to know**

**I'm yours alone**

**And I'm in love to this day**

I snatched the towel off the rack by the side of the tub and hastily dried myself off, the muffled sound of the record coming from the bedroom causing me slight panic. Tossing my towel in the hamper I crossed the bathroom to grab my robe from the door and pulling it on.

**As we go through the years**

**Day by day**

**I'm yours alone**

**And I'm in love to this day**

I pressed my ear to the door and listened for a moment, a little put out that I couldn't hear who had started the record. I pulled in a deep breath before grabbing hold of the handle and opening the door as quietly as I could, peeking out into the room.

**As we go through the years**

**Day by day**

He was standing in front of the record player, his broad shoulders hunched forward and his head dipped. He was dressing in his formal uniform, his jacket off and tossed across the back of one of the chairs. He had rolled up his sleeves and taken his shoes off. All in all it appeared that he wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Steve," I found myself saying.

The man in question jumped slightly before looking back at me, his eyes widening as he looked me over. "Ellie," he said, a faint blush sweeping across his face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, stepping out into the room.

He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. "Jimmy gave me your note," he answered, holding up a folded piece of paper.

I arched an eyebrow and stepped over, taking the note from him. "'Soldier, join me for a late night rendezvous? Let yourself in and make yourself comfortable, put a record on'," I read, a little uncomfortable with the fact that my brother could mimic my handwriting perfectly. "When did he give you this?"

He shrugged. "Five minutes ago," he answered, realization sweeping across his face. "You didn't write that, did you?" he asked, nodding to the note.

I shook my head with a small smile. "No I did not."

Steve let out a humorless laugh and gave a nod. "I'll get out of your hair then," he said, stepping past me to grab his jacket.

I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm. "No, please, stay," I told him despite the fact that my stomach was in knots.

He looked back to me. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

A small smile pulled at his lips. "Alright."

I smiled back and let go of his arm. "I'm, uh, I'm going to get dressed," I said, pointing back to the bathroom. "Do you mind waiting a little longer?"

"I'll wait as long as I have to," he answered.

I wish I could say that guilt didn't come with that but it did. I nodded again and walked back to the bathroom, grabbing my suitcase as I did so. I pressed the door closed and dug through the scant options of clothes I had left. A grumble of disappointment left me as I pulled out a pair of black trousers and a wrinkled green blouse. I suppose I shouldn't have been too embarrassed, I mean, Steve had already seen me in my underwear. Shucking my rob I pulled on my clothes, not bothering to put on stockings as I did so. Buttoning up the blouse I tucked it into the trousers and grabbed one of the hand towels to run it over my hair. I sighed and looked myself over in the mirror, pleased that my eyes were no longer bloodshot and the swelling had disappeared. I pulled in a calming breath and once again stepped out into the room.

Steve had moved to the small table by the window, his attention caught on something down on the street.

"I'm sorry about Jimmy," I said, moving around the bed to take the seat across from him. "He tends to stick his nose where it doesn't belong."

"Actually," he started as he looked back to me, "I was on my way up to see you when he gave me the note," he admitted, that beautiful smile on his face. "I was going to see you one way or another."

A small laugh left me, a small smile twitching at my lips. "Did you have a mission or was it a social call?" I questioned.

"I haven't seen you since the debriefing," he stated as if it was obvious. "I was worried about you."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you be worried about me?"

"Ellie," he said, leaning across the table towards me, "after what happened in the factory how could I not worry?"

I dropped my eyes to the table and shook my head. "It takes more than that to knock me off my feet," I assured him. "I'm sure Jimmy's told you that we've been through worse."

"He didn't really go into detail," he said, reaching across the table to hold his hand open.

I hesitated but took the invitation and placed my hand in his.

Steve ran his thumb across my knuckles, his smile dipping slightly. "That was one of the things I was worried about," he mused.

I pulled in a sharp breath and shifted in my seat. "I can't say I blame you," I said, my voice softer than I had wanted it to be. "It's quite a thing to be worried about."

"Do they hurt?"

I blinked in surprise. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "The, uh, the spikes," he clarified. "Do they hurt?"

I pulled my hand back and gave him a look of astonishment. "You're worried about them hurting me?" I demanded.

It was his turn for confusion. "Ellie, what-"

I shook my head as I got up from my seat. "How can you-" I cut off, not liking how harsh that would have sounded. "I'm not Human, Steve," I reminded him. "How can you be okay with that?"

"Ellie," he sighed, almost giving me a pleading look, "it's not like you've suddenly changed who you are. You're still the same person," he stated. "Hell, if anyone's changed it's me. I mean, I wasn't even half the man I am now when we first met but you never treated me any differently."

I scoffed. "That's completely different."

"You're right," he agreed, getting up from his chair. "I made a choice, Ellie, but this is who you are."

"And who I am isn't Human."

"Then that's who you are," he said with a shrug, "but it doesn't change anything," he said, moving towards me.

Instinct kicked in and I stepped back, the dream once again flashing through my head.

Steve stopped short at that, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "Ellie…." He trailed off, his voice going soft.

I forced myself to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry I let it go this far without telling you," I said, wrapping my arms around my waist. "It hasn't been fair to you."

He watched me for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Do you remember what I said after you told me about your parents?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "You said you wanted to know everything."

He sighed with a small smile. "I said that I don't want you to tell me something because you think you have to. That I want you to tell me when you're ready," he continued. "Ellie, I can't keep my eyes off you, do you really think I didn't notice there was something special about you?"

"What?" I asked, standing a little straighter. "You knew?"

Steve shook his head. "I didn't know what but I knew there was something," he answered, "and I knew that if you wanted me to know you would have told me."

"I wanted you to know but-"

"But you were scared," he finished, his voice knowing. "Ellie, no matter what it is, you never have to be scared of telling me something."

I shook my head. "You make it sound so easy."

"That's because it is," he stated, giving me a bright smile.

"How can you say that?" I demanded. "I can't die, I don't age, and I have bone spikes that come out of my hands. How is any of this easy?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, a sheepish expression sweeping across his face. "Because I love you, Ellie."

And just like that all the air left the room.

"What?" I whispered.

"I love you," he repeated. "I have since the first time I spoke to you and there's nothing you can say or do that'll change that. The fact that you can't die is almost reassuring and Howard's pretty confident that I won't age either," he told me. "As for the bone spikes," he said, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, "they're actually killer-diller."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me.

Steve beamed at that and took a small step closer, cautious of me moving back again. "Nothing about you could scare me off, Ellie. You're stuck with me till you send me away."

I pulled in a shaky breath and brought a hand up to cover my mouth, cursing the storm of emotions that had been the past few days as my eyes welled with tears again. "It really doesn't bother you?" I asked, my voice muffled.

He shook his head, closing the space between us to rest his hands on my shoulders. "Ellie, honey, you could turn purple and grow four eyes and it wouldn't bother me," he stated. "I'd love you all the same."

I all but giggled and wiped at my eyes, the fact that he had now said it out loud three times making me giddy. "I love you too," I told him, relieved to finally say it to him.

If his smile got any wider it would split his face. "Really?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

I nodded. "Really really," I assured him.

He let out what sounded like a victory cheer and lunged forward, his arms moving to wrap around my waist as he lifted me up, spinning us around like he had when I agreed to be his girl.

A startled laugh left me as I clung to him, far too pleased to let him have his fun. I buried my face into his neck as the sobs took over, the relief overwhelming.

"Ellie, why are you crying?" he asked, coming to a stop and leaning back to look at me.

I shook my head as I sniffed. "Happy tears," I told him. "This isn't how I thought this would end."

He shook his head with me. "And you say I worry too much," he said, leaning forward to kiss both of my cheeks before pressing a long lingering one to my lips.

I sighed into him, my fingers coming up to thread through his hair. "I love you," I murmured against his lips.

He let out a hum before pulling back, a goofy grin on his face. "I love you too," he said, pressing his forehead to mine. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you that."

"Well what took you so long?" I demanded, unable to help but think that if he had it would have prevented me a lot of stress.

"I'm a chicken," he answered.

I let out a snort. "The hell you are," I argued. "You're entire life has been proof of that."

His nodded his head to the side. "True, but I haven't had you my whole life," he said. "I tend to get a little fuzzy in the head when I'm around you."

"Do you now?" I asked, honestly feeling a little smug. "Some would argue that that would be a problem in the field," I told him.

"Maybe," he allowed, "but knowing that you're more durable than I am should help me keep my head on straight."

"Durable? Is what I am?" I asked.

A blush swept across his face. "Among other things," he answered, his eyes dropping down to glance at my lips.

Taking the hint I leaned forward and gave him another kiss. "I don't know about you but a late night rendezvous sounds just like what we need," I mused once I pulled back.

"I couldn't agree with you more," he said, setting me back down to my feet.

"Are you hungry? I know it's late but the kitchen staff happens to like me," I said, moving over to the phone.

He chuckled at that. "I'm sure they do," he said. "Ever since the experiment I'm always hungry."

"That's your metabolism. I'm afraid you'll be in a perpetual state of hunger for the rest of your life," I told him, picking up the receiver and dialing the room service number.

"There are worse things, I suppose," he muttered, walking back to the record player.

_"Good evening, Eleanor,"_ Julian, the head chef, greeted with his usual chipper tone.

"Good evening, Julian," I greeted back. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

_"Anything you need, love,"_ he answered.

I smirked and looked over to watch Steve shuffle through the records. "I have a hungry Super Soldier

in my room, do you think you could help me with that?"

He actually laughed.  _"I was wondering when I would get this call,"_ he said.  _"I'll have something sent up."_

"Thank you, Julian, there'll be a nice tip in it for you," I said before hanging up. "Foods on its way," I announced, walking over to the bed.

He glanced back at me. "Frank Sinatra or The Andrews Sisters?" he asked, holding up the records.

I hummed in thought as I jumped up onto the bed. "Let's stick with Sinatra," I decided, laying out on my stomach with my head in my hands. "We haven't gone wrong by him yet."

"Sinatra it is," he agreed, pulling the record out of the sleeve and placing it in the player.

I pulled in a deep breath and stretched out. "So you have to have questions," I stated. "About what I am."

He bobbed his head. "Sure I do, but I'm not gonna push you," he answered, lowering the needle to fill the room with more of Frank's crooning.

"You're not pushing, I'm offering," I corrected, bringing my feet up to kick them back and forth through the air. "Lay 'em on me."

A surprised laugh left him. "That just sounds wrong."

"Come on, don't be a chicken," I teased.

He watched me for a moment before giving a nod. "Well, my first question still stands. Do they hurt?"

I shrugged the best I could. "They're kind of like a tooth ache. It's pain but it's just annoying."

His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped over, sitting on the bed beside me. "Can I see them?"

I brought a hand forward and clenched it together, pushing the spikes out. "Jimmy's the one who discovered them first," I explained. "Shocked the hell out of all of us."

"I can imagine," he agreed. "When did it happen?"

I hesitated, the truth of the story I had told him so long ago now a possibility. "I'm sure you've assumed that some of the stories I've told you weren't entirely truthful."

He nodded. "Understandably."

I smiled at that, still surprised by his ability to forgive. "Well, the night Thomas killed Logan it set Jimmy off," I explained. "In a fit of anger he triggered the mutation and killed Thomas, that's when we found out that he was our father and Victor was our half-brother. I was too devastated to really understand what had happened but I'll never forget the look on my mother's face when she saw the spikes," I said, my brow furrowing in concentration as I resisted the urge to once again cry.

"That's why you were scared to tell me," he said, one of his hands cupping mine while his other touched the spikes.

I hummed in agreement. "She was supposed to be the one person who loved me unconditionally," I said, pulling in a deep breath, "but she was the first person to call us monsters."

"Ellie," he sighed, closing both of his hands over mine. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged the best I could. "My whole life I never cared about what people thought of me, they never meant enough to me for it to matter but…" I trailed off with a laugh.

"But what?"

"But suddenly there you were asking me if I was okay," I answered, rolling over far enough so I could look up at him. "I hope you know that you threw my entire world through the wringer."

A smirk pulled at his lips. "That's a good thing, right?"

"It's certainly not terrible," I stated, letting my fingers relax and the spikes retract. "I think you're the one person I couldn't stand to see give me that look."

He raised my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "I promise that you'll never see it from me."

I took the moment to allow myself to believe that. "I'm going to hold you to that, soldier."

"I look forward to it," he told me, the sincerity in his voice nearly heartbreaking.

"Next question," I prompted.

He pursed his lips in thought. "You really don't age?"

I shook my head. "Not in the traditional sense. Howard theorized that I'll look 30 when I'm 300."

"And how old are you now?"

I let out a dramatic gasp and pulled my hand back. "Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady her age?! I demanded.

He held his hands up in defense. "If you don't want to tell me that's fine," he stated. "It's just, sometimes, you get this look in your eyes that…..that reminds me of the one my mom used to get."

That surprised me but I didn't let it show. "How old do you think I am?"

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "If I had to guess? 22-23."

I couldn't help the laugh that left me. "I haven't been either of those for several years."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, Ellie, stop teasing," he complained. "Just tell me."

"Are you sure you want to know?" I questioned. "You said that nothing I said would change how you thought of me but….."

"Ellie, Howard seems pretty sure that I'll be the same way," he assured me.

I let out a sigh and slumped further into the bed. "I was born October 18th, 1833."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "1833?" he asked. "You're 110 years old?"

I groaned and rolled over onto my back, my hands coming up to cover my face. "Hearing you say it makes me feel so old," I whined.

Steve had the audacity to laugh at that. "That's because you are old," he stated, reaching out to pull my hands away from my face, "but I happen to have a thing for older women."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Oh you do, do you?" I asked. "Since when?"

He shrugged the best he could. "Since I found out that my girl's old enough to be my grandmother."

I laughed out a moan. "Oh stop it!" I said, attempting to push him away. "You're going to make me feel like I'm robbing the cradle."

"Well, technically you are," he argued. "You're 85 years older than me, you're robbing the cradle two generations down."

"No, I get enough of this shit from Howard," I stated, shaking my head. "You keep talkin' like that and I'm gonna make you leave," I threatened.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he said, the teasing smile still on his face. "Can I still ask questions?"

"As long as you don't be an ass about it," I told him, managing to pull a hand free and flicking him in the forehead.

He laughed again but didn't argue. "You said you were born in Alaska. True?"

"North-Western Territories, Canada," I amended.

"You're Canadian?" he asked, sounding awfully close to betrayed.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "My brothers and I came down into America in 1861 for the Civil War. When it ended in '65 we decided to stay."

"You're illegal immigrants?" he asked.

"I was for 27 years but when Ellis Island opened in 1892 I made it official," I explained, amused by the fact that my nationality was the part of me that caused him discomfort.

His eyes widened. "Your name is at Ellis Island?"

"It was till the building burned down in 1897," I mused, still a little bitter about it. "Your parents went through there too, right?" I asked, remembering him telling me that they were Irish immigrants.

He nodded, a look of astonishment on his face. "Yeah, in 1916," he answered.

I grimaced. "That's when they started doing medical exams. If you so much as had a cold you were on a boat back to wherever you came from."

His eyes narrowed it thought. "I remember my mom saying something about that. She said that they were lucky."

"A lot of people spent months on that island because the process was so slow," I explained.

"How long were you there?"

"Two weeks," I answered. "If science had been further along at the time they would have found what Erskine did and I would have been there a lot longer," I mused, pushing myself up and off the bed when I heard the footsteps and cart in the hallway. I made it to the door before Julian had the chance to knock, the Englishman smiling brightly when I pulled it open.

"Evenin', love," he said, pushing the cart into the room. "Captain," he said, nodding to Steve.

Steve nodded back, pushing himself up from the bed awkwardly.

Julian chuckled at that and stilled the cart in the middle of the room. "All I need is your autograph," he stated, grabbing the waiters folder and holding it out to me.

I took it from him and pulled the pen free from before signing my name and adding a nice tip to the total. "Thank you so much, Julian," I said, folding it closed and handing it back to him.

"It's my pleasure, love," he all but crooned. "Just give me a ring if you need anything else," he said, striding back to the door.

"I'll be sure to," I agreed, following behind him. "Give my best to the rest of the staff."

"I'll be sure to," he repeated before disappearing down the hall.

I closed the door behind him and locked it once again. "Julian's met you before, you know," I mused. "He took his daughter to one of your shows."

Steve let out a groan. "He saw me in the tights?" he asked, raising a hand to cover his face.

I hummed in agreement. "He said that you signed something for her and she's been in love ever since."

He cracked his fingers and peeked out at me. "How old is she?"

"6," I answered.

He let out another groan.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Well I think it's adorable," I stated, walking over to the cart.

"What, the tights or the girl?" he questioned.

"Both, if I'm completely honest," I answered, pulling the silver dome away from the tray and letting out a laugh when I found the pile of sandwiches and bottles of Coca-Cola. "Julian, you spoil me," I murmured.

"Is that Coca-Cola?" Steve asked, the hope in his voice unmistakable.

I smirked and looked back at him. "You bet your boots it is," I told him, grabbing a bottle and tossing it back to him.

He caught it easily. "I haven't had one of these since the war started," he said, beaming down at the bottle. "Buck and I used to save up to buy a case of these at a time, drink 'em up on the roof."

I let out a snort of laughter. "You know, for a sickly kid you had a pretty adventures childhood," I mused, grabbing a bottle of my own.

"Well, if it wasn't going to kill me outright I was doing to do it," he explained. "I wasn't going to let it stop me from having a life."

"I suddenly feel very bad for your mother," I said, popping the cap off the bottle and grabbing the plate of sandwiches. "I can only imagine what you two put her through," I stated, climbing back onto the bed and leaning against the headboard.

He nodded as he moved to join me, the bed groaning in protest as he dropped down, a light blush dusting across his face at that. "Buck was always the responsible one," he continued, moving a little more cautiously as he settled in. "Though you've probably figured that out by now."

"You'd have to be blind not to," I stated, setting the plate down between us and grabbing one from the top. "It's actually pretty funny."

"I'm glad you get some amusement out of it," he grumbled, taking a sandwich for himself. "Changing the subject but your other brother, Victor, is he like you?" he asked before shoving half the sandwich in his mouth.

I resisted the urge to laugh and shook my head. "No, he's a whole other animal. I'm convinced that he's mostly cat, mountain lion or cougar but I doubt we'll ever really know," I explained. "Not unless he lets Howard and I run tests on him and that's as likely as the war ending tonight."

He hummed in understanding. "So he doesn't have the spikes?"

"No, his nails are shaped like the claws of a cats. They extend and contract like Jimmy and I's but they're always sharp," I told him. "When we were kids, before we found out what we were, he used to cut them dull. I remember watching him with a knife just chipping away at them."

Steve's brow furrowed. "Why would he do that?"

I let out a snort. "It was the 1800's and he had cat claws," I reminded him. "With the way Victor is it was a miracle that he wasn't pulling them out."

He grimaced at that. "Would he really do that?"

I nodded without hesitation. "The worst thing you can do is assume that Victor won't do something because it's the worst option," I told him. "That tends to be what gets you killed around him."

"And you don't know where he is, right?"

I shook my head. "He still favors our habits from the Civil War."

"What? Disappearing?"

"Often times after a battle my brothers and I were the only ones left alive," I explained. "We'd move on, join up with another platoon till the next battle. We spent the whole war that way, moving on every few weeks. It kept us anonymous. We tried to do the same during WW1 but the trenches made it hard," I said. "Jimmy and I learned to work around it but Victor absolutely hated it. Still does."

He frowned at that. "He goes AWOL?"

I shrugged. "In a manner of speaking," I allowed, taking another bite of my sandwich. "He always ends up wherever the fighting is the thickest."

Steve arched an eyebrow at that. "Why do I get the feeling that he's not fighting because it's the right thing to do?"

I shook my head. "No, Victor's only ever fought because he thinks its fun," I answered, honestly feeling a little ashamed that I had thought that once too.

"He thinks its fun?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

I shifted in my seat and nodded. "He's made differently from us," I defended. "There's more animal in him than Jimmy and I. A part of him considers it a sport."

"Animal," he mused, seeming to test the word out. "You said that Victor is mostly ca but what are you and Jimmy?"

"Howard confirmed us as wolf," I answered.

An amused smile appeared on his face. "I can believe it," he said. "You and your brother are far too comfortable in the woods."

I laughed at that and nodded. "We practically grew up in the woods," I said. "We spent 16 years in the Canadian wilderness before coming down into America for the war."

"Really? I thought you were 12 when you left?" he asked.

"Jimmy and I were 12 and Victor was 14. We were kids who didn't know any better or have anywhere to go," I reminded him.

He seemed perplexed by the mere idea of it all. "So you lived in the forest? For 16 years?"

I nodded. "We traveled north until we came across an abandoned cabin by Lake Athabasca," I told him. "We stayed there till we caught wind of the American Civil War."

"Huh," he said, slumped further back against the headboard. "What made you want to join the war?" he asked, shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

A snort of laughter left me and I shook my head. "I joined the war because I was doing the one thing I've been doing my entire life," I said, taking a swig from the Coca-Cola bottle. "Following my brothers."

Steve chewed quickly, obviously not wanting to speak with his mouth full. "Is that a bad thing?" he questioned after swallowing hard.

"I suppose not," I mused. "Though some of the things that have happened have made me wonder if it was worth it."

He seemed to understand that. "Your Shell Shock."

I hummed in agreement. "That's a part of it."

"At the debriefing," he said, almost hesitantly. "After you left Jimmy said that you were having a mood."

"You've seen one before," I told him. "The first time we met I was on the tail end of a mood. A few minutes before you showed up I was close to flipping my wig. There's something about crowds that triggers them and being in that office with all of you just-" I cut off to pull in a deep breath, my chest tightening at just the thought of it. "It wouldn't have been good."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" he asked, the concern written all over his face. "The fellas were worried about you. They kept asking if you were okay."

I sighed and shook my head. "I'm better left alone," I answered, taking anther bite.

"Okay, we can do that."

I gave him a curious look.

"If you need to be left alone then we'll leave you alone," he explained. "There's no point in making it harder for you."

I watched him for a moment before leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

"Anything for my best girl," he said, that blush once again on his face.

I kissed his cheek again before grabbing another sandwich. "Have you exhausted your questions or do you have more?"

He tilted his head in consideration as he grabbed himself another sandwich as well. "I've always wondered how you get away with calling Colonel Phillips Chester."

A surprised laugh escaped me and I shook my head. "You haven't guessed?"

Steve nodded his head to the side. "I have a few ideas but I don't want to assume."

I let out a hum of understanding. "You know what happens when you assume, right?"

He shook his head.

"You make an ass out of you and me."

He had to think about it for a moment before a snort of laughter left him. "That's clever," he stated.

"Chester told me that once," I mused, sipping at my soda. "And I can get away with calling him that because I know it annoys him," I explained. "And he can get away with calling me Howlett because he knows it annoys me."

Steve chuckled. "How long have you two known each other?"

I smiled at that and shifted over to pull open the top drawer of the nightstand, the file I had 'borrowed' from Chester resting below several books. I pulled it free and held it out to Steve.

He arched an eyebrow and set his Coca-Cola onto the other nightstand before grabbing the folder. He flipped it open on his lap and fanned out the photos and letters.

"That ones from WW1," I said, reaching over to pull one of the phots free. "That's me and there's Chester," I said, pointing to us.

Steve squinted and leaned down to get a closer look. "Look at you," he said, a bright smile pulling across his face. "You look like a boy."

I let out a snort. "Wait till you see this one," I mused, pulling the photo from the Civil War out. "Can you find me?"

He scanned the photo before pointing to the smaller figure of Donald, the poor flute player who died two days after the photo was taken.

"Well, the photos grainy so I won't hold it against you," I told him before pointing to me. "There I am and there's Chester's father," I corrected, pointing to the right figures.

Steve let out a low whistle as he pulled the picture closer so he could squint at it. "If it wasn't for your nose I wouldn't recognize you," he stated.

"My nose?" I questioned, said appendage scrunching up.

He nodded absently, his eyes still locked on the picture. "You have a pretty distinctive nose," he said.

"Distinctive?" I repeated, not sure if I should be offended.

"To me, at least," he said, tearing his eyes away from the picture and smiling up at me, his hand coming up to run his finger down the bridge of my nose. "I've drawn it enough times I could probably do it blindfolded."

I arched an eyebrow. "You've drawn my nose?"

"Well, I mean, not just your nose," he elaborated. "I've drawn all of you more times than I care to admit."

I could feel the blush sweep across my face at that, the thought of him hunkering over his sketch book to draw me awfully flattering. "I hope you know that I will be looking through every sketch book you've ever touched when the wars over, right?"

He chuckled lightly and gave a small nod. "I promised you could, didn't I?"

"Yes you did, along with many other things," I mused, thinking back to our campfire promises.

Steve hummed in agreement and looked over at me, a soft smile on his face. "I'm going to keep all of them," he told me before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine. "I promise."

"I look forward to it," I said, leaning further into him.


	14. Captain America Part 14

Much to my surprise the fellas held an almost childlike curiosity for Jimmy and I's secret. I often found myself explaining the science behind the mutation itself like a school teacher would her class, even going as far as having Howard make me a copy of the Project Alpha file for reference. Jimmy on the other hand was prompted questions about the wars and the places we had been between them, my brother getting a particular joy out of telling them all the actresses he and Victor had wooed during our Hollywood days. Some of the questions, however, would have been better answered by Victor, the oldest sibling having the most accurate memory of us all. I had taken to giving the questions an answer of 'I'll have to ask Victor' and adding it to the list of things I would discuss with him once I saw him. Though the prospect of not getting an answer didn't stop them from asking.

* * *

The forest was surprisingly calm for a warzone. A heavy fog had settled through between the trees, the curling vapor adding a certain amount of stillness. Jim was crouched behind a tree by the side of the road while we were huddled a few feet back.

"Did you live in a forest like this?" Timothy suddenly asked, his head dropped back to look at the canopy of trees above.

Jimmy let out a snort. "Hell no."

"Think pine trees," I told him, attempting to be more helpful that my brother. "More wilderness, less countryside."

He nodded in understanding. "Like mountain men."

"Mountain men," Jimmy agreed, looking awfully reminiscent. "God I miss it."

I rolled my eyes at that. "You and Victor can have fun frolicking through the trees by yourselves, I'm staying in the city."

He scoffed at me. "This coming from the girl who didn't wear shoes till she was 16."

"She still doesn't," Buchanan added with a small smirk before looking over to Steve. "Middle of the night, two feet of snow, she takes her boots off to go chase after some Nazi's she heard," he explained. "Hands me her boots and tells me that if she's not back in five minutes to move on without her."

Steve looked over to me with a shocked expression. "You told them to leave you there?" he demanded.

I shrugged innocently. "It wouldn't have taken me 5 minutes," I assured him. "And if it had then I deserved to be left behind."

He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "Your logic terrifies me sometimes."

I couldn't help but smile. "You're not the only one," I told him. "It's been terrifying my family for years. Right, Jimmy?"

"Don't even get me started."

Steve went to persist but cut off when Jim blinked his flashlight at us.

Jacques sprung from his crouch and ran for the road, dropping down to lay flat just in time for a Hydra tank to pass over him. He jumped to his feet and covered his ears expectantly.

We collectively held out breathes as the tank continued down the road before exploding.

Jacques threw his arms up in elation before spinning around to beam at us.

Some of the men cheered while the rest of us smiled in relief.

* * *

_The speakeasy was packed to the gills. Short skirted girls and men in tailored suits mingled together on the dancefloor and at the bar, charming smiles and flirty smirks being exchanged like friendly fire. The band stationed in the corner was doing its best to make as much noise as it could with the space they were given, the sound probably vibrating the floor of the shop above._

_I was sat at one of front tables, sipping at a glass of scotch as I watched my brothers dance with a pair of redheads, the women vodka blushed and giggly. I smiled to myself and sipped at my scotch, glad that that they were having fun for once. My attention was stolen, however, when uniformed Buchannan twirled by them with a petit blonde in his arms. Soon Gabe danced by, then Jim. A moment later Timothy, Jacques, and Falsworth joined them, all in uniform with bright faced girls. It wasn't long before I spotted Steve standing on the other side of the dancefloor, watching his men with a fond smile. I threw back the rest of my drink and got up from the table, weaving through the other patrons as I made my way towards him._

_He seemed to sense my approach and turned towards me, that kind smirk on his face. "Ellie," he greeted._

_"Steve," I greeted back. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."_

_"Why's that?"_

_I couldn't help but laugh. "You do know where we are, right?" I asked._

_He looked around him. "We're at a USO dance," he answered before giving me a skeptical look. "Do you know where we are?"_

_My brows furrowed and I looked around, shocked to find that the crowded speakeasy had been replaced with a dance hall._

_The short skirted girls were now in knee length dresses and the men in tailored suits were now in uniform. The band crammed in a corner now had a stage, the musicians now looking solemn instead of joyful._

" _When did we….." I trailed off, scanning the dancefloor to find everyone still there except Victor._

" _Can I have this dance, Ellie?" Steve asked as the band started up a new song._

_I looked back to him, my confusion ebbing away at the hopeful look on his face. "Course you can, soldier," I told him, taking his offered hand._

_His smile widened as he led me onto the dancefloor. He pulled me flushed to his chest once we reached the center, his hand splaying across my back while his other held mine off to the side. "I love you, Ellie," he mused, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple._

_I rested my head against his shoulder as I smiled. "I love you too, Steve," I told him, kissing the underside of his jaw._

_He let out a content sigh and rested his chin on top of my head._

" _Lizzy."_

_I sighed in annoyance. "Yes?"_

" _Lizzy?"_

" _What?"_

"Lizzy!"

I jerked awake at the sound of my name and sat up, my hand reaching for the gun at my hip out of instinct. "What is it?" I asked as I scanned the camp for any signs of danger.

"What was that guy's name? The one who ran the Chicago outfit?"

I blinked quickly as I looked over to my brother; not all that surprised to find him in the usual morning huddle of the Commandos. I sighed and slumped forward, a hand coming up to rub at my eyes. "Which year?" I asked back.

Jimmy's face scrunched in thought. "1910?"

"Um, Big Jim," I answered, clearing my throat. "James Colosimo remember? He was married to Victoria Moresco," I explained, kicking off my blanket and crawling to my knees.

Jimmy's face instantly brightened. "Oh yeah. Vicky."

I nodded my head to the side as I started towards them. "She was something," I agreed, the forest floor digging into the palms of my hands. "Why are you asking about Chicago?" I questioned, using Timothy's shoulder to steady myself as I brought my legs around to take the empty spot in the circle.

"I was telling them about prohibition," he explained with a shrug.

I scrunched up my face. "You should be telling them about Al then," I told him, reaching towards the campfire for the last ration packet that I knew was mine. Much to my amusement Steve had noticed that I often traded morning meals for extra sleep and had started preparing them for me so I would have time for both.

"I was getting to him," Jimmy defended. "Besides, it should be you telling them. You were the closest to him."

I smiled to myself as I took a bite of the military food. "What can I say? I was his favorite."

"Wait, wait, wait," Gabe said, waving his hand at us. "Al? Not Al Capone?"

I gave him a sheepish smile. "He let me call him Alphie."

"You gotta be kidding me," Jim deadpanned with a scoff. "You worked with Al Capone?"

Jimmy gave a nod. "Lizzy met him when he was a bouncer in one of Johnny Torrio's brothels," he explained, taking a puff from his cigar and blowing the smoke in my direction.

They all looked to me with surprised expressions.

"What?" I asked around a mouthful of food. "He was barely twenty with a wife and kid, he needed a friend," I defended, shooting each of them a glare. "Besides, Johnny asked me to keep an eye on him."

"But you met him in a brothel?" Steve asked, choosing those to be his first words to me. "A brothel?"

I scoffed and took another bite. "Don't flip your wig, soldier, I was just the bartender," I assured him before giving him a look. "Do you really think I have the temperament to be a lady of the night?"

"No," Falsworth and Jimmy snorted in laughter.

The rest of us looked to them in question.

Falsworth cleared his throat while Jimmy simply smirked.

"God bless those poor women," I said, shaking my head as I looked between them.

The men laughed at that.

"Where did you and your brother fit in all this?" Jim asked, looking to my brother. "You work at the brothel too?"

Jimmy chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, Vic and I ran merchandise through the city," he explained. "Glorified delivery boys."

I couldn't help the snort that left me. "Delivery boys," I muttered, shaking my head as I took another bite.

He huffed and looked over to me. "What would you call us?"

"Not delivery boys, that's for sure," I mused. "Delivery boys don't have outstanding warrants in multiple states."

"You had outstanding warrants too!" he defended, pointing an accusing finger at me.

I gave a nod of agreement. "Yes, but I wasn't calling myself a delivery boy. I was honest about what I was."

"And what were you?" Timothy questioned, looking down at me.

I held my head high as I flashed him a smile. "I was a Moll with ambition."

Steve choked on the swig from his canteen while Buchanan let out a laugh.

"You were a gangster's girlfriend?" Gabe asked, sounding more impressed than anything else.

"Is it really that surprising?" I asked back, taking another bite of the tasteless food.

Gabe snorted at that. "Considering that you're dating America's golden boy? Yeah."

"Golden boy?" Buchanan asked with a laugh. "Golden boys don't get into back alley fights with guys twice their size cause the fella talked during a movie," he said, looking to Steve with a glare that showed years of irritation.

Steve shifted uncomfortably as he looked anywhere other than Bucky.

I couldn't help the peel of laughter that left me. "When did he do that?" I asked.

Bucky turned his attention over to me. "An hour before the science fair," he answered.

I shook my head as I looked over to Steve. "Really? Because he talked during a movie?"

Steve let out a sigh. "He was bad mouthing the news reel on the war," he said as if it explained everything. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Not fight him in a back alley?" Bucky suggested, leaning closer to his friend. "He was three times your size. They're always three times your size."

Steve's jaw clenched in frustration but he still refused to look at his friend.

I glanced between the two of them before settling on Steve. "It's amazing how selective your flight response is," I mused.

He looked over to me with an arched eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

I dipped my head to the side. "Well, the only times I've ever actually seen you flighty was before the experiment and after I shot at you," I told him. "But you didn't hesitate to jump out that airplane or run into that burning building last week."

"That's different," he argued, sitting up a little straighter. "When I found out that it was Howard who was running the experiment I remembered his flying car from the science fair."

My smile instantly dropped. "Oh," I said, now just suddenly remembering that it had crashed and burned right on stage. "Yeah, that would be discouraging."

"Wait, Howard has a flying car?" Gabe asked, sounding almost insulted for having not been told sooner.

"He's trying," I answered with a soft shrug, "but the repulsor engines that replace the wheels won't hold the weight of the car no matter how much Howard adjusts them. He keeps claiming that the science isn't available yet but I just think he's stuck."

"He showcased it at the New York World's Fair, showgirls and everything," Steve continued, a wide smile pulling at his face. "He fired it up and it hovered for about half a minute before it kind of fell."

I let out a snort of laughter. "The engines imploded and it dropped like a stone," I corrected. "He tried to play it off like he had meant to do it but he sulked for days after."

"He should, it was a disaster," Buchanan agreed, his irritated expression changing to one of amusement. "If I'd known that it was him who was making all of our equipment I would never have agreed to come."

Steve coughed out a laugh and finally looked over to his friend. "You wouldn't?"

Bucky shook his head. "You'd be on your own."

"And I thought we were friends."

"We are but obviously I have more smarts than you."

"I thought you took all the stupid with you."

The two shared a small knowing smirk.

"You two are fucking adorable," Jimmy grumbled out around a smirk of his own.

I nodded in agreement. "Just as adorable as you and Victor," I stated, leaning across Jacques to tickle under his ear.

He twitched away from me and slapped at my hand. "Stop, Lizzy."

"Remember when we were kids and we used to sleep in a huddle so we wouldn't freeze?" I asked, tugging at his shirt now. "And I would get up early and you two would latch onto each other? That was so adorable."

"Lizzy, I'm warning you," he gruffed, jerking his shoulder out of my reach.

"Or when we'd go to the park and you would ride the carousal with me?" I persisted, grabbing ahold of the end of his sleeve to shack it back and forth. "Two grown ass men riding a children's ride with their little sister. Now that was adorable."

"You're pushing it, Lizzy," he growled out, struggling to pull his arm free.

Jacques had leaned back as far as he could without laying down, his eyebrows raised into his hairline as he looked between my brother and me.

"And we can't forget when you were teaching him how to dance," I continued, raising the tone of my voice a little higher. "He broke your foot three times and he cracked your head open on the table when he dipped you. There was blood everywhere and he kept asking you how many fingers he was holding up. God, that was so-" I cut off to roll back away from the circle as Jimmy lunged across Jacques towards me. "Oh calm down," I chastised, pushing myself to my knees. "I was only teasing."

He gave me an unamused look as he settled back into his spot, grumbling to himself as he pulled his cigar out of his jacket.

I smiled to myself and crawled around over to Steve. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" I asked, leaning against his back as I wound my arms around his shoulders. "He's so mean to me," I whined.

Steve chuckled as he reached up to overlap my hands. "You're not exactly innocent, you know?"

I let out a dramatic gasp and glared down at him. "You're supposed to be on my side!" I exclaimed. "What the hell, Steven?!"

The men chuckled at that.

"I'm just being fair, Ellie," he explained, craning his neck back to look at me. "You do tease him."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I tease him, I'm his little sister, it's my job," I defended. "You would know this if you had a little sister."

"I have Bucky, doesn't that count?" he asked with a smirk.

The guys roared in laughter again.

Bucky scoffed and gave Steve the finger. "Fuck off, Rogers."

Steve just laughed harder.

* * *

I would be lying if I said that Hydra didn't put up a fight this time around. There were more soldiers than usual and I could have sworn that some of them had been trained, albeit poorly, to dodge Steve's shield. While I hadn't taken to timing how long it takes us to conquer Hydra bases but this time I did. 2 hours and 16 minutes. Much to Steve's dismay the fight only left one Hydra agent alive, a man who had hid during it all just to come out at last minute to surrender. While he was able to answer every question Steve asked about Johann he was awfully unhelpful when it came to my questions about Claus.

"Gibt es ein Labor hier?" (is there a laboratory here?) I asked, looking down at the agent.

He thought for a moment. "ich weiß es nicht," (I don't know) he answered with a small shrug.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Gibt es einen Keller?" (is there a basement?) I demanded.

The agent looked up to me in alarm, his face going paler than it had already been. "Ich würde nicht dort unten gehen," (I would not go down there).

"Warum nicht?" (why not?)

His eyes darted over to one of the barricaded doors. "Das ist, wo wir den Wolf zu halten," (that's where we keep the wolf) he answered, his voice shaking.

My eyes widened with shock. "Der Wolf?" I asked before looking over to Jimmy.

He matched my expression. "You don't think…" he trailed off.

I turned my attention over to the door the agent was watching, the look of terror on his face more than enough confirmation for me. "Only one way to find out," I mused, already moving towards the door.

Steve, being the closest to me, jogged ahead and pushed the crates blocking the door out of the way. "Be careful, Ellie," he warned as I pulled the wood plank from in front of the door.

I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled open the door. My nose crinkled at the smell of old blood that wafted through the air but I started down them nonetheless. I blinked furiously against the sudden darkness I found myself in, the only light in the room coming from the now open door. My eyes were fully adjusted by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, allowing me to see the contents of the room. When my eyes landed on the far wall my heart stopped.


	15. Captain America Part 15

He was drenched in blood. His hair, longer than it had been the last time I saw him, was matted and hardened with the now dark brown liquid. His clothes were stained and hanging off of him, his once uniform torn and shredded. Fresh blood dripped down his arms from the cuffs around his wrists, the metal constantly biting into his skin and not letting it heal.

"Victor?" I asked, my voice soft so I didn't startle him.

His head twitched towards me.

I let out a sigh and closed the space between us, my claws coming out so I could get the chains off of him. I caught him before he could slump to the floor and steadied him on his feet. "Come on, let's-"I started but was cut off when he suddenly twisted around and slammed me into the wall. A strangled grunt of pain left me as his hand wrapped around my throat. My instincts took over and I attempted to push him off, my own hands coming up to wrap around his. "V-Vic," I choked out.

A snarl ripped from his throat as he loomed over me, his eyes dull and clouded. "Nazi-Schwein."

Oh, this wasn't going to end well. It was sad to say but I've never been able to get the upper hand in a fight with Victor, I wasn't going to win this. I managed to get one of my legs up and wedged between us, applying some pressure to get some space. Victor's fingers slacked slightly and I was able to get a decent gasp of air. "Jimmy!" I yelled out before Victor jerked himself forward harder, a yelp of pain leaving me at the action.

Victor continued to snarl at me, my act of defiance seeming to fuel whatever illusion he was trapped in. He reapplied the pressure to my throat and I once again found myself choking on nothing.

"Hey!"

"Victor!"

A moment of thundering footsteps followed before Victor was ripped away from me.

I slumped against the wall as I coughed, my throat tingling as it healed the damage Victor had done.

"Ellie, are you okay?" Steve asked, putting himself in front of me.

I nodded out of reflex and looked passed him to see where Victor had gone. Jimmy had him pinned to the wall across from me, his arm pressed into Victor's throat to keep him steady while he spoke in calm tones.

Steve's hands gently grasped my shoulders to get my attention. "Ellie, are you okay?" he repeated.

I nodded again. "Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him, reaching up to place my hands on his arms. "This happens to him sometimes."

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "This has happened before?"

I let out a hum of agreement. "He was in a POW camp for a month during the first world war," I explained, once again looking passed him towards my brothers. "It took a few days for him to fully snap out of it."

Steve shifted slightly to look back as well. "Will he be okay?" he questioned, concern in his voice though I wasn't sure if it was for my brother's wellbeing or for the wellbeing of the others.

"Eventually," I answered.

He pulled in a deep breath and gave a firm nod. "We'll get him taken care of," he stated, looking back down to me. "Don't worry, Ellie."

A surprised chuckle left me at that and I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Steve," I told him, stepping forward to wrap my arms around his waist. "I didn't think I would see him till the war was over," I mused.

He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm glad you found him but I'm sorry it was like this."

I hummed in agreement, pressing my face into his shoulder.

"Ella."

I pulled away from Steve to look back to my brothers, the two of them now facing us. The dull look was gone from his eyes and now a dim sparkle shown. I cleared my throat and gave him a wide smile. "Hey, Vic," I said, the relief in my voice.

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "I'm s-sorry, Ella," he said, his voice breaking.

I shook my head back and walked towards him. "The only thing I want you to apologize for is calling me a 'Nazis pig'," I told him, attempting to be humorous.

He watched me for a moment before letting out a humorless chuckle. "I'm sorry I called you a Nazis pig," he apologized, dipping his head down. "Forgive me?"

I flashed him a bright smile. "As if I could stay upset with you."

A small smile of his own twitched at his lips.

I took that as a good sign and stepped a little closer. "How about we get you cleaned up before we make introductions?" I questioned, gesturing back to Steve.

Victor looked over my shoulder with a slight frown but he didn't make a comment, simply giving a nod.

* * *

It always surprised me how quickly my older brother could scrub away blood. In a mere ten minutes he was back to his good old self, clean cut hair, freshly shaved face, and a toothy grin that could put someone off their breakfast. Timothy, being the closest to Victor's size, had offered up the set of spare clothes he brings with him on missions although he was unable to provide boots, something Jimmy and I had known wouldn't bother Victor in the slightest. We had been right.

Victor let out a sigh as he did up the last button of the shirt. "I've forgotten what clean clothes feel like," he muttered.

"That tends to happen when you leave your unit," I reminded him.

He shot me an unamused look. "Don't start with that, Ella," he stated.

I flashed him a cheeky smile. "Don't act like you didn't miss me."

"Never," he said without hesitation, the teasing in his tone gone.

The familiar warmth of Victor's approval grew in my chest and I felt my smile widen. "I know it's a long shot but will you come back with us to England?" I questioned, attempting to keep the hopefulness from my voice.

"Why would I want to go to England?" he asked with a chuckle.

Jimmy scoffed. "Maybe because you haven't seen your sister for almost two years," he suggested, giving our brother a pointed look.

Victor glanced to me before raising an eyebrow at Jimmy. "You don't care if I come?"

"I see you all the time," he dismissed with a shrug.

It was Victor's turn to scoff. "Gee thanks," he drawled out. "Ella, do you really want me to come?" he asked, turning his attention back to me.

"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do," I told him with a small shrug. "But it would be nice to spend some time with you before the war ends."

He watched me for a moment before letting out a sigh. "I guess I could take a vacation," he decided. "Besides, I am curious about why you smell so much like Captain America."

Jimmy and I shared a worried look.

"You know who he is?" I questioned, making an attempt to divert the subject.

He barked out a laugh. "Oh yeah, I know who he is," he mused, a knowing smirk stretching across his face.

I glared over at him. "What the hell does that mean?" I demanded, not liking what that implied.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Ella. It's nothing bad," he assured me. "You'll actually get a kick out of it."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Forgive me if I don't believe you," I said, letting out a sigh.

"Back to what we were talking about before," Jimmy begun, "there's no lab in this building?"

Victor shook his head. "Not that I saw," he answered. "Though I doubt I saw the whole place. I mean, it's a fucking castle."

I hummed in agreement. "I'll do a better sweep of the place before we leave," I mused.

"Why are you looking for a lab?" Victor asked, working on rolling up his sleeves.

I frowned at the prospect of having to explain it and looked to Jimmy.

He gave me an understanding nod. "It's kinda a long story, I'll tell ya later."

Vic glanced between the two of us in confusion but didn't press the matter. "Alright," he muttered.

I flashed Jimmy a thankful smile before pulling in a deep breath. "Are you done preening? I think the fellas have been waiting long enough."

Victor snorted.

"Do not start, Victor," I warned.

He held his hands up in surrender. "I'll behave."

"I doubt that," I muttered, moving to open the door.

Victor chuckled as he followed and Jimmy followed behind me.

I pulled the door open and stepped out into the main room.

"That was fast," Steve noted, sounding genuinely surprised as he watched us file out of the room.

"Us Creed's know how to wash away the blood in a hurry," Victor explained, looking him up and down. "Makes it easy to answer the door when the cops come knocking."

I reached back and smacked his shoulder. "Don't make it sound like it happens all the time," I accused. "It happened once- to me, and it was my blood," I reminded him.

Victor snickered at that. "With the dressing gown you were wearing you could have left the blood, I doubt he would have noticed."

I shot him a smug look. "You're just jealous because it looked better on me than it did you."

A gleeful chuckle left him as he looked down at me. "I've missed you, Ella," he stated, reaching up to ruffle my hair.

I allowed the touch, simply due to the fact that I hadn't felt it in a while. "Yeah, yeah," I grumbled playfully. "Alright, fellas, I want you to meet my older brother Victor," I said, turning my attention to the men. "Victor, I want you to meet Timothy Dugan, Gabe Jones, Jim Morita, James Falsworth, Jacques Dernier, Bucky Barnes," I introduced, gesturing to each man as I said their name.

Victor stood a little straighter and gave them a respectful nod. "Gentleman."

Various greetings left the men.

I pulled in a steadying breath and looked over to Steve. "And this is Captain Steve Rogers."

Victor turned his head slowly, amusement written rather clearly on his face. "Pleased to meet you, Steve," he said, holding his hand out to him.

Steve squared his shoulders and took hold of Victor's hand. "Pleasures mine, sir," he responded. "Ellie speaks highly of you."

He let out a snort and glanced over at me. "I'm sure she has," he mused before looking Steve up and down. "I gotta say, Steve, I like this uniform a lot better than the other one," he stated, a smirk on his face. "Tights really aren't your style."

A burst of laughter erupted through the men, all of them well aware of what Steve had done for Senator Brandt.

I, on the other hand, was not so amused. "You saw one of his shows?" I demanded.

"Oh yeah," Victor answered with a chuckle. "No offense, Steve, but I liked the girls better."

Despite Steve's blush stricken face he managed to let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, you and every other guy," he stated.

I made an offended sound and folded my arms across my chest. "I can't believe you got to see his show and I didn't," I grumbled, glaring up at my older brother. "How is that fair?"

"It's fair in the sense that he still has some of his dignity," Victor answered, giving me a pointed look. "You wouldn't have let him live it down if you had seen it."

I stuck my tongue out at him, more than a little put out that he was right. "I just wanted to see the damn costume," I grumbled.

"You've seen the costume," Jimmy suddenly stated. "You have the postures from the tour."

"What?" Steve asked, looking down at me in surprise. "You have the posters?"

It was my turn for my face to burn with a blush. I shifted my stance and looked away from them, clearing my throat as I did. "I don't know what you're talking about," I denied.

"Ellie?" he pressed, reaching out to poke my side.

I jerked away and smacked his hand. "Oh fuck off, soldier, I'm not admitting anything!"

"Howard collected them for you, didn't he? From bars."

I pursed my lips and glanced at him. "I will neither confirm nor deny that."

He beamed at that and hooked his fingers around my arm, pulling me back to him. "If you had posters I'd collect them too," he told me, his voice low enough so the Commando's wouldn't hear him but my brothers had.

"She does, actually," Victor stated, looking between the two of us with something close to amusement. "She was a lounge singer in 1932. Her posters were all over Chicago."

"Really?" Steve asked.

"Oh yeah," Jimmy added, sounding as if he had just remembered it. "You couldn't go anywhere without seeing one."

I glared up at him. "I'm sorry that the sight of my face was such a hardship for you."

"Thank you," he said with a straight face and a sincere tone.

I scoffed and flipped him off. "Asshole," I stated before looking to Steve. "I'm going to do another sweep of the factory, do you want to come with me?"

"Why don't you leave him here with me, Ella?" Victor requested before Steve could answer. "I'm not gonna hurt him."

Jimmy laughed.

Victor had the sense to look offended. "What am I going to do? Really?" he demanded.

I took a moment to consider it.

"Ellie," Steve started with a chuckle, his hand moving from my arm to move across my shoulders, "you're being paranoid. He's your brother."

I frowned. "That's why I'm worried," I muttered before letting out a sigh. "Ten minutes. That's it, Victor," I warned, pointing a warning finger at him.

He held his hands up in surrender.

"Watch him," I told Jimmy before heading off.

* * *

"That's Victor."

"Mhhm."

"Your older brother Victor."

"Mhhm."

"The one you said ripped a man's spine out."

"Mhhm."

"Holy shit."

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me at that. "Why are you so surprised?" I demanded. "After all the stories I've told you?"

Howard shifted uncomfortably as he craned his neck to look out of the cockpit and to my brothers, the two men chatting happily with the others. "There's a difference between hearing a story and actually seeing it," he argued, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I mean, he's ripped someone's spine out!"

"And I've ripped throats out with my teeth," I countered, "but you're not scared of me."

His head snapped up to look back to me. "You've ripped throats out with your teeth?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You didn't know that?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure I told you that."

He shook his head slowly. "No, I'd remember if ya had."

I watched him for a moment before looking back out the windshield. "Huh."

He let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah 'huh'," he sassed. "What the fuck, El?"

I shot him a look. "You're the one who found out that I have wolf DNA. How do wolves kill, Howard?"

He considered it for a moment before pulling a sour look and leaned back into his seat. "It's just gross," he stated. "Why would you rip someone's throat out with your teeth?"

I shrugged. "Instinct."

"And you kiss Steve with that mouth?"

A burst of laughter left me at that. "Let's not tell him about that, okay?" I requested.

"Why? Scared he won't take it as well as I have?"

"You have never taken anything well," I stated.

"That's not true," he argued. "I thought I took you being a Mutant very well."

"Howard, you asked if you could set me on fire," I reminded him.

He gave a firm nod. "Yes, for science."

"Asking to set someone on fire is not taking something well," I stated.

"But it's for science," he argued.

I glared over at him. "So if I set you on fire it would be fine as long as it was for science?" I demanded.

He nodded without hesitation. "I'm always a whore for science."

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me. "What the hell does that mean?"

"If means that science can have her way with me any way she wants to," he answered, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

I continued to laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "I worry for you, Howard."

* * *

Colonel Chester Phillips will forever be my favorite superior. Upon spotting Victor as we exited the plane he stated 'don't tell me who he is so when they ask me I won't be lying'. Victor was all too happy to play along, shaking his hand with a 'sir' and a smirk. Howard was also all too happy to keep Victor off the flight record, saying it would save him paperwork further on down the line. As far as the military was concerned Victor Creed was still M.I.A.

While my brother wasn't easily impressed with most things Howard's lab proved to be something else. He asked questions that Howard jumped at the answer, the scientist genuinely surprised when he was able to fully understand everything.

"So this is what you've been doing," he mused, looking back at me with a smirk.

I couldn't help but smirk back. "Envious?"

He chuckled and looked back to the display of prototype weapons. "A little."

"You should show him your project," Howard suggested.

My eyebrows shot up and I glanced over to Steve. "Not now."

Steve's brow furrowed at my glance and looked to Howard in question.

Howard looked sheepish. "Right. Later," he agreed, clapping his hands together. "How about I show you the shit we've stolen from Hydra," he said, not bothering to wait for an agreement and walking off.

Victor didn't hesitate to follow after him, Jimmy close behind while Steve grabbed my hand to keep me back.

"Why can't I see it?" he asked, honestly sounding hurt.

"It's not finished yet," I told him, threading my fingers with his and pulling him after the others. "You'll be the first one to see it when it's done," I promised.

His face suddenly brightened. "It's a surprise for me?" he asked.

I hummed in agreement. "I've been working on it for a while."

"How long is a while?" he questioned.

I had to think for a moment. "I would say about two and a half years."

"Ellie," he said, pulling me to a stop. "You've been working on something for me for two and a half years?" he asked, a look of shock having replaced the excitement.

"Well," I started, turning to face him, "I've built it from scratch. That takes time."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. We've only been taking on Hydra for a year and a half," he stated with a pointed look. "What about the other year?"

I pursed my lips and looked away from him. "There was that year that you were off playing circus monkey for Brandt," I supplied.

"Brandt? But that was….." he trailed off, confusion pulling at his face. "Ellie, you barely knew me then. Why would you do that?"

I gave a small shrug and flashed him a smile. "I knew you were special the moment I saw you," I told him. "I got the idea a few days after you left with Brandt. It became a pet project whenever I had down time- which is another reason why it's taking me so long to finish," I added with a grumble. "Though after a few sleepless nights I've gotten it to the point where it just needs a few finishing touches. I'll work on it tonight, maybe I can get it done and you can see it tomorrow," I told him.

"Ellie, honey, that's great but don't lose sleep over this," he said, reaching up from my arm to brush the back of his fingers against my cheek. "I know you can't sleep sometimes but I don't want you intentionally going without."

I leaned into his hand with a soft smile. "As long as I'm with you I seem to sleep just fine," I mused before letting a sigh, "but I really want to finish this. I promise I won't stay up all night, just long enough to get it done, okay?"

He gave me an understanding look, his hand pressing flat against my cheek as he leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll ask your brothers to make sure."

Confusion pulled at my face. "Why would you need to ask my brothers? You're no exactly a heavy sleeper."

It was Steve's turn for confusion. "I assumed that you would be staying with your brothers tonight," he answered. "Since Victor's here."

I gave a hum of understanding. "In a normal situation you would be right, but Jimmy's taking Vic out tonight and I really don't want to be there when they come back with girls," I told him.

The confusion swept off his face rather fast. "Oh," he said, a blush dusting across his cheeks. "Would they really bring girls back with you in the room?"

I couldn't help the bark of laughter that left me. "Oh God, the stories I could tell you. I've seen my brothers in more compromising positions than we all care to admit," I told him, shaking my head. "So, if it's alright I would like to spend the night with you," I requested, leaning back into his hand and looking up at him through my lashes.

His blush reached the tip of his ears but his expression was anything but bashful. His eyes had darkened and his smile had dropped slightly into something closer to a smirk. He moved closer to me, his other hand coming up to run across my hip and to the small of my back, pressing me into him. "Ellie," he started, his voice impossibly soft, "sleeping with you in my arms is a privilege that I will take whenever you permit me."

I let out a shaky breath as I looked up at him, still a little unused to his moments of forwardness. "Well, soldier, it's a good thing that your arms are my favorite place to be," I told him, curling one arm around his shoulders while the other wound around his waist.

A soft sigh left him before he closed the space between us, kissing me far too tenderly to be called fair. He held me there for a moment longer before pulling back and pressing his forehead against mine. "I love you, Ellie," he whispered, his eyes still closed.

My throat tightened at the sincerity of those three words. "I love you too, Steve," I told him, hoping that he could hear in my voice what I had in his.

* * *

I was sitting on the floor in the farthest corner of the lab, tools and parts spread out around me as I tinkered with the motorcycle in front of me. I had been at it for little over two hours and I was more than pleased with my progress, I would get it done tonight.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

"Fuck!" I gasped, the wrench slipping off the bolt and clattering to the floor. "Dammit, Victor!" I snapped, looking over the bike to glare at my newly appeared brother.

He chuckled as he stepped over, leaning against the seat of the bike to look down at what I was doing. "You must really be distracted if I can sneak up on you," he mused. "Thinking about Steve?"

I frowned. "Don't start."

Victor held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Ella, I'm not starting anything," he assured me. "I'm just curious."

A sour knot twisted in my stomach at that word. "Please don't say curious."

Confusion twisted at his face but he didn't question it, giving a small nod before moving around the bike to crouch down next to me. "Jimmy's filled me in on what's happened but I wanted to hear about it from you," he explained. "He says that you love him."

For a moment I considered telling him to fuck off and mind his own business, but the simple fact that he wasn't smirking stopped me from doing so. I shifted uncomfortably and turned my attention back to the bike, picking up the wrench and continuing what I had been doing. "What if I do?"

"Do you?" he challenged.

"Yes," I answered without hesitation, keeping my eyes locked on the bike. "I love Steve. Very much."

"And he loves you."

It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway.

He was quiet for a moment. "Jimmy said that he's never seen you this happy."

I cleared my throat and grabbed the next part. "I am happy. He makes me happy," I told him.

"Steve told me that he's promised you a future. That he's promised you a life after the war," he said, his voice respectfully calm. "Is that what you want? A life with him?"

I paused and glanced over at him. "What would you do if I said yes?"

Victor watched me for a moment, a calculating look on his face. "Ella…." He trialed off with a sigh. "Ever since the Civil War I knew you weren't like Jimmy and I," he stated.

My head snapped up to look to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"War. You don't love it."

My jaw clenched at that. "It's not my favorite," I allowed.

He shook his head. "No it's not," he agreed, "and I'm sorry for that."

A humorless laugh left me. "That I don't love war?"

"That I put you through it."

Surprised shot through me at that. "What?"

He frowned and dropped his eyes to look at the tools. "I know that Jimmy and you joined the war cause you didn't want me to go off on my own," he admitted, his voice going a little softer. "I know that everything that happened to you is my fault."

"Victor, that's not-"

"You don't have to lie, Ella," he cut me off, looking back up. "I accepted the guilt for your scars years ago, you don't need to sugar coat it. Everything that war did to you is my fault. The nightmares, the panic, the insomnia, all of it is on me. I'll never make up for that."

Emotions I didn't know were there welled up. "I don't blame you for any of that," I told him, my voice wavering.

He shook his head. "You should. You really should."

A tension filled silence settled between us as we struggled to decide what to do.

I pulled in a sharp breath. "What does any of this have to do with Steve?" I questioned, looking down at the tool in my hand, fidgeting with it in a nervous manner.

Victor cleared his throat. "Ella, the last time I saw you actually happy was when we first got to New York and we walked through Central Park," he stated. "I'd forgotten what that smile looked like till I saw you with him."

I remembered that walk through Central Park, the feeling of freedom and possibility practically pulsing in the air. I had thought that we were as far from the war as we could possibly be. I hadn't hated Chicago; the work we did or the people we did it with but it was still just another form of war. New York was something new. I was ecstatic about the possibilities.

"If he puts that smile on your face, Ella…" he trailed off again, shaking his head.

"What are you saying?"

He reached out and grabbed hold of my hand, making me look up at him. "I'm saying that I want you happy. If Steve makes you happy then you run with him. Have that life he's promising you."

"What about you and Jimmy?" I asked, squeezing his hand a little harder than I probably should have.

He chuckled at that, giving me a small smile. "Sweetheart, it's not one or the other," he told me. "I'm not saying abandon us, I'm saying be done with war."

The thought of a normal life almost seemed laughable. "I don't know if I can do that, Vic," I admitted, my voice softer than I had wanted it to be. "Crowds make me nervous, loud noises send me hiding and the littlest things trigger memories. The only environment I seem to function well in is a warzone. I'm not crazy there."

"You're not crazy anywhere, Ella," he told me. "Listen, Steve's not the epitome of your happiness. Your happiness is what you can do with Steve, the kind of life you can have. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

I had thought about it more times than I cared to admit.

"Do you think it's worth the risk?"

An uneasy laugh left me. "This is an awfully heavy conversation for not having seen you in years," I told him.

He gave me a look. "Don't avoid the question, Ella."

I let out a forced sigh and looked back to the bike. "Of course it's worth the risk," I stated, my brows furrowing as I once again worked on adding the part, my mind needing something else to focus on. "That man's stuck with me till one of us dies."

"From what I hear that's going to take a while," Victor mused, a slight tease in his voice. "Looks like you're in it for the long run."

A great amount of relief came from that, Victor's teasing meaning the serious tone of the conversation was at an end. "Well, why do anything half assed, right?"

He chuckled. "Right."

This time the silence wasn't filled with tension, but rather a knowledge that an understanding had been reached.

I pulled in a calming breath and let it out slowly. "I thought you and the fellas were going out?" I questioned, aware that I was changing the subject but knowing that he would allow it.

His usual smirk slipped onto his face. "We did," he answered, "and a conversation with Steve brought me here."

I let out a laugh. "You left Jimmy in the bar?"

Victor shrugged it off. "He's fine."

I shook my head. "You should get back to him before he comes looking for you," I advised. "You know how he gets."

Victor hummed in agreement. "No patience," he mused before shifting forward to kiss the side of my head. "Get some sleep, okay? You're looking a little strung out."

"Gee thanks."

He shot me a wink and pushed himself to his feet. "See you in the morning, Ella."

"Have fun," I said, watching him saunter off and out of the lab.

It was always so amazing how a conversation with Victor would leave you either feeling accomplished or wrecked. I wasn't sure which one I was feeling now.

I rubbed a hand across my forehead with a sigh, suddenly feeling far more tired than I had before. "Jesus, that man leeches energy," I muttered, shifting myself closer to the bike so I could finish attaching the part.

* * *

Half an hour later I found myself free of the lab and in the hotel, making quick work of the stairs and the hallway that led to our room. It hadn't been a planned set up, him moving into my room. In fact, it had happened without either of us noticing, a simple matter of him running down to his room to grab a pair of cufflinks having him realize that his room no longer held any of his things. He had returned to my room in surprised shock, apologizing for just invading my space and offering to take his things back to his room. I had told him no, that obviously if either of us had a problem with it we would have noticed it had happened. Steve had been awfully giddy about that.

Pulling the key out of my pocket I unlocked the door and slipped in, closing it behind me as quietly as I possibly could. Steve was curled up on the bed, taking up just a fraction of the space despite his massive frame. I had asked him about it once and he said it was something he had done since he was kid, needing to maintain what little body heat he managed to let off. It always amazed me how small he managed to make himself when he wanted to.

Keeping my eyes on him I leaned down and pulled my boots off, setting the off to the side before tip toeing over to my suitcase. Digging through the clothes I pulled out the pair of pink pajamas I had gotten from the nurses and started to stipe down. I made quick work of it, tossing my socks, pants, bra, and blouse into my suitcase as I buttoned up the shirt and shimmied into the pants. I gave a silent thank you to whoever was listening that Steve hadn't woken up during that, knowing that if he had seen that he would have stammered himself to death. I shuffled over to the bed and lifted the covers up, attempting to ease myself onto the bed without jostling him.

"What time is it?"

I let out a defeated sigh at the sound of his sleep thick voice. "1:42," I answered.

He pulled in a deep breath and rolled over to face me, his arms stretching out across the bed towards me.

I beamed at that and all but threw myself into his arms, burrowing down into his chest as he pulled the covers up around us. "I tried not to wake you," I told him.

A chuckle rumbled through him. "I heard the door open," he admitted, "thought I'd let you sneak around for a while."

I let out a groan of disproval and pressed my face into his chest. "How considerate of you," I grumbled.

He laughed this time, the sound muffled against the pillow. "Did you finish it?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me to pull me closer.

"I did," I answered, snaking the arm that wasn't trapped between us around his waist, my fingers slipping under his shirt to draw lazy patterns across the small of his back. "You'll get to see it tomorrow," I promised.

Steve shivered at the touch and tightened his hold on me. "I can't wait."

"I think you'll like it," I told him, planting a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

He let out a soft sigh. "If it's coming from you I'm sure I'll love it," he assured me, his fingers splaying across my back.

I smiled at that and nuzzled into his neck, a content hum leaving me. "So how did you spend your evening?" I questioned. "Did Buchanan try to get you drunk again?"

His chest rumbled as he laughed. "It was Howard, actually."

A rather unladylike snort left me. "Did he say it was in the name of science?"

"Uh, yeah," he answered. "That was his reason for the whole night."

"Did he write anything down?" I wondered.

"Why would he write anything down?" he wondered back.

I chuckled and shook my head the best I could. "Because it's only science if you write it down," I told him. "Otherwise it's just messing around."

He chuckled with me. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he mused, shifting his head down to press his face into my hair. "Ellie, there's something I wanted to talk to you about…." He trailed off, sounding a little unsure of himself.

I frowned at that, knowing that it probably had something to do with the conversation he had with Victor. "That's not ominous at all," I joked, running my fingers up his spine and back down, attempting to calm him down. "Should I be worried?"

"What? No," he answered, reluctantly pulling back to look down at me. "Ellie honey, it's nothing bad," he told me, the arm not trapped under me coming up to brush my hair back.

I gave him a soft smile. "Well go on then," I encouraged.

He pulled in a deep breath and let out a nervous chuckle. "I know that we haven't really talked about the future, at least, not in detail," he started, his eyes dropping down to stare at my throat, "and I know what I want but…." He trailed off to clear his throat, "I want to make sure that we want the same thing."

I cocked my head to the side and listened to his erratic heartbeat for a moment. "And what do you want, Steve?"

"I want to marry you."

My eyebrows shot up at the matter-of-fact tone that he used. "Do you?"

He gave a firm nod. "I do."

I hummed and flashed him a bright smile. "And what do you want to do after you marry me?"

A bark of laughter left him at that, his smile growing as wide as mine. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"That's going to be an awfully long time, you know."

He gave another nod. "That's the idea, honey," he told me, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "You're stuck with me for as long as you want me," he said, trailing kisses down the bridge of my nose. "L'amour de ma vie."

I couldn't help but giggle at that. "Gardien de mon Coeur," I told him.

He pulled back slightly to give me a confused look. "What did you say?"

"Keeper of my heart," I answered.

"And what did I say?"

A snort of laughter left me. "You don't know?"

He shook his head. "Jackie just said it was romantic."

"You said 'love of my life'," I answered.

He groaned and dropped his head back onto the pillow. "Yours is so much better."

"Oh, no it's not," I all but cooed, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him closer. "Just hearing you speak French gets me starry eyed. It doesn't matter what you're saying."

"So I could ramble off a grocery list and you'd see stars?" he questioned, turning his head to press it into my neck.

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement. "Repeat after me. Mon petit chou."

"Mon petit chou," he repeated without hesitation. "What did I say?"

"My little cabbage," I answered before bursting into giggles.

He laughed with me, his breath hot against my neck. "How is cabbage romantic?"

I giggled harder, shaking my head. "Fuck if I know."

Perhaps it was the fact that we were both sleep deprived or the stress of the job was getting to us but we laughed with little reserve, probably waking whoever occupied the rooms around us if we hadn't already. It eventually tapered off into synced heavy breathing, Steve's face still buried into my neck while my hand was splayed halfway up his back, his t-shirt bunched up.

I stared up at the ceiling with a blissful smile, the warmth in my chest something other than body heat.

"Day by day," Steve sang, his voice muffled, "I'm falling more in love with you."

My smile widened, the fact that he knew the song awfully endearing. "And day by day, my love seems to grow," I continued.

"There isn't any end to my devotion."

"It's deeper dear, by far, than any ocean."

"I find that day by day you're making all my dreams come true."

"And so come what may, I want you to know."

"I'm yours alone, and I'm in love to stay."

"As we go through the years, day by day."

"I said, day by day."

"As we go through the years, day by day."


	16. Captain America Part 16

Waking up in a room with the drapes drawn, the sheets tangled around my legs and the pillows thrown to the floor was never a good sign. Either something remarkable happened that I didn't remember or I had one hell of a dab dream. I let out a groan and rolled over towards Steve's side of the bed, not all that surprised to find him gone and a note on the nightstand. I stretched my arm out as far as I could and managed to snag the edge of the note, flipping it open to find a rather impressive sketch of my sleeping.

"And he lectures me on not sleeping," I muttered, a sleep smile twitching at my lips. I took a moment longer to look at the picture before untangling myself from the sheets and crawling across the bed to open the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I maneuvered the rather thick photo album out of the drawer and onto my ap, slipping through the pages to the next spot. I had bought the book a few weeks into Steve and I's correspondents, finding that the folder I had been keeping the letters insufficient. Steve sent far too may drawings not for them to be looked at. The letters may have stopped but the drawings and sketches kept coming.

"He's gotta start signing these," I mused as I tacked the drawing onto the fresh page. A started yelp left me when the phone went off, the shrill ringing ruining the peaceful moment. I stretched across the bed once again and picked up the receivers. "Agent Howlett," I answered.

_"Well good morning, Agent Howlett,"_ Victor's far too chipper voice answered back. "How are you this fine morning?"

I rolled my eyes and flopped back against the mattress. "Unenthused," I stated. "I wasn't expecting you conscious till mid-day."

"Come on, Ella, that's insulting," he stated. "You know me better than that."

"I do know you, that's why I found it odd," I mused. "Do you need something?"

He chuckled at that. "Yeah, I need breakfast and little brother won't let me have it unless little sister is present," he explained, not actually sounding all that annoyed about it. "You're got ten minutes to meet us in the lobby before I come up to get you."

I raised an eyebrow he couldn't see. "Only ten minutes? I hope you don't expect me to look presentable."

"When have I ever? Just get down here," he told me before hanging up.

"Thank God for that," I muttered, tossing the receiver back into the cradle before getting up to get ready.

/

* * *

Howard's borrowed pants, my SSR T-shirt, bomber jacket and scuffed boots were far from appropriate for the five-star restaurant Victor chose to have breakfast in. I'm pretty sure that if Victor and Jimmy hadn't ordered the entire menu we would have been asked to leave. A generous tip was left to compensate for any damages or hurt feelings our family get together may have caused.

"You just had to pick the fancy place," I grumbled, lighting my fifth cigarette as we walked down the street towards headquarters. "You know, there was a perfectly good diner just down the street," I stated, blowing the smoke in Victor's direction.

He smirked around the cigar clenched between his teeth. "Ella, I didn't come all the way here to eat at a diner," he stated. "I wanted real food."

I rolled my eyes at that. "It's real food as long as it's not powdered, boiled or mystery meat."

"Amen, sister," Jimmy agreed.

I flashed him a smile and pulled in another drag. "So, you two have any plans for today?"

"I thought we were with you today?" Victor asked, actually sounding disappointed. "Why?"

I blew out the smoke before answered. "Howard got all hot under the collar when you were able to keep up with him yesterday," I explained. "He set aside a few things for you to play with; Jimmy too."

"Howard's letting us play with his toys?" Jimmy questioned.

I smiled at the excitement in his voice. "Some of them. Honestly though, I don't trust most of his inventions. He always manages to set himself on fire or blow something up."

"I knew I liked him," Victor stated.

I eyed him for a moment, grimacing slightly. "Maybe you two together isn't the best idea."

Victor scoffed and reached out to ruffle my hair. "Come on, Ella, don't be a flat tire."

I smacked his hand away. "I am not a flat tire," I told him. "I'm just worried about you three blowing up the lab."

Jimmy stepped forward to throw his arm around my neck. "Stop worrying, Lizzy. If Howard hasn't done it already then I'm sure we'll be just fine."

"Forgive me if that doesn't instill a lot of confidence," I muttered with a sigh. "Just please behave yourselves for a few hours. That's all I'm asking."

"Yes, mother," they chorused.

I groaned at that but decided to keep my mouth shut. They weren't going to quit anytime soon.

The store that served as the SSR's headquarters front was a bookstore. It wasn't a large place but it had a surprisingly vast selection of genres. It was ran by a sprightly older woman who didn't have an issue with the fact that she never married, despite what everyone else seemed to think.

"Evening, Dorothy," I greeted as I stepped through the front door.

The woman in question appeared from behind one of the many bookcases. "Oh, hello, darling," she greeted back. "Gentlemen," she added, nodding to Victor and Jimmy.

"Ma'am," they chorused back.

She giggled at that and turned her attention back to me. "Before I forget, darling, those books you ordered are here," she told me. "Would you like them now?"

I instantly perked up and nodded quickly. "Yes please."

"Still with the books, Ella?" Vic questioned, attempting to sound teasing.

I rolled my eyes as I followed after Dorothy. "Well, you know, they keep publishing new ones," I teased back. "I have to keep up with them."

He gave me a look but didn't press it.

I smiled at him and stopped to leave against the counter as Dorothy disappeared into the back. "Did you have a problem finding any of them?"

"The last one gave me some trouble," she answered, "but I've never met a book I couldn't find."

I couldn't help the laugh that left me at that. "I'm glad to hear that," I told her. "How much do I owe you?"

"Ten dollars even."

I arched an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure? Because I know for a fact that just one of those books is seven dollars," I pointed out.

Dorothy emerged from the back, the box that held my books in her arm and an unamused expression on her face. "Eleanor, don't argue with me," she told me. "The books are ten dollars even. Take it or leave it."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Dorothy."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "With how much the SSR is paying me I could give away my whole stock and be just fine," she told me. "Really, I'm not doing you a favor."

"Those books easily cost twenty-five dollars," I said, pointing to them.

"Eleanor."

"Dorothy."

"Eleanor."

"Dorothy."

She watched me for a moment before letting out a sound familiar to a scoff. "Fifteen."

"Twenty," I countered, raising my eyebrow once again.

"Oh blood hell, fine!" she exclaimed, setting the box on the counter. "Stubborn ass."

I snickered like a child and pulled the twenty out of my jacket pocket. "I adore you, Dorothy," I stated, holding the bill out to her.

She hummed in agreement. "You're lucky I adore you as well," she said, snatching the bill from me. "Are there any others that you need me to hunt down for you?"

I shook my head as I pulled the box towards me. "No, thank you, Dorothy. These should keep me occupied for a while."

She laughed at that. "I'm sure they will," she agreed. "You just let me know when you need more, alright, darling?" she asked, reaching out to pat my hand. "It's wonderful seeing a young girl pursuing knowledge."

My smile widened at that. "Thank you, Dorothy. I'll let you know when I have a list."

"Be sure that you do," she said with a nod. "Now, run along before that Stark comes looking for you. I have no patience for that boy," she grumbled, shaking her head as she shuffled away.

"I like her," Victor decided.

"She's like the grandmother we never wanted," Jimmy agreed.

I let out a snort of laughter. "You know, she is young enough to be one of our daughters," I mused, picking up my box and starting for the bookcases against the far wall.

"Is she really?" Jimmy questioned as they followed behind me.

"Mhmm, she's in her seventies," I answered, resting the box on my hip before stopping in front of the back bookcase to reach up and pull down the wall lamp beside it.

A whirring of gears came from the wall before the bookcase sunk back and moved over to reveal a dimly lit staircase.

"What is it with government agencies and dark hallways," Victor grumbled as we started down the stairs.

"How many government agencies have you seen?" Jimmy demanded.

"Enough to know that they have an obsession with dark hallways," he answered, smacking Jimmy's shoulder.

I let out a sigh. "What did I say about behaving?" I asked, pushing open the swinging doors and steeping out into the buzzing bullpen. "It's on my head if you two get into trouble."

"You're insulting us, Lizzy."

"Yeah, Ella, you're insulting us."

I rolled my eyes and maneuvered past a group of bickering white coats. "God forbid the two of you be insulted," I muttered, hoisting the box higher up on my hip. "Does anyone know where Captain Rogers is?!" I called out, knowing someone would answer.

"He's in the lab with Mr. Stark," a passing secretary supplied.

"Thank you!" I called after her, continuing on my way towards the lab. "I just don't want a repeat of Italy. They still have your pictures in the police stations as wanted terrorists."

Victor winked at a passing agent. "We had nothing to do with that and you know it," he stated, his head turning to follow the woman as she walked by.

I shook my head defiantly. "I wasn't with you two so I don't know what happened," I denied. "You two are always in cahoots with each other, it's hard to get the real story."

"What do you think it means?," Victor asked, leaning a little closer to Jimmy. "That our sister doesn't trust us?"

Jimmy held his head a little higher and with a smirk. "It means we've got a smart sister," he answered.

Victor threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing through the room at an almost alarming volume.

I did my best to ignore the looks of shock and unease my brother received, knowing from experience that Victor's laughter often made people nervous.

"Someone in our family has to be," he stated, reaching out to pull at the end of my ponytail.

I let him have his fun, more than happy with the fact that he felt comfortable enough to joke. I shot him a smile over my shoulder before pushing through the set of swinging doors that led to the labs. "Marco!" I called when I didn't immediately see them.

There was a moment of silence before Howard's voice sounded from the back. "Polo!"

In the seemingly short time that Howard and I had been operating out of the lab it had become somewhat of a labyrinth. Work tables, filing cabinets, and piles of scraped tech made it nearly impossible to walk through without prior knowledge or help. Naturally I knew it like the back of my hand. Stepping past the last row of cabinets I spotted Howard at one of his many work stations, Steve hovering over him to look at whatever he was working on.

"Morning, soldier," I greeted, heading straight for Steve.

He turned towards me, a bright smile on his face. "Morning, honey," he greeted back, grabbing the box from me with one hand while his other rested on my waist. He dipped down to give me a quick kiss before looking to the box. "Is this my surprise?" he questioned.

I let out a laugh. "No, it's books."

"Books?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded.

"Can I?"

"Go ahead," I allowed with a shrug before turning my attention to the nearly unconscious Howard. "Can I see your field notes?"

He looked up from the blueprints in front of him, his blood shot eyes squinting at me. "What field notes?" he demanded, his voice scratchy.

I cocked my head to the side. "The field notes from your attempt at getting Steve drunk last night," I answered. "You told him it was for science so obviously you wrote everything down."

He blinked lazily up at me. "Shut up, El."

"Aw, poor Howie," I cooed, running my fingers through his hair in an effort to tame it.

"I hate that name," he grumbled, leaning into my hand all the same.

"'Advanced Biochemistry'?" Steve asked, reading the spine of the first book he pulled from the box. "'Advanced Biology. Advanced Chemistry. Advanced Physics. Advanced Mechanical Engineering," he continued, pulling them all out.

Howard snickered lightly. "Advanced nerd," he added.

My eyebrows shot up as I looked down at him. "You're the one that recommended the books, you ass," I reminded him.

He continued to snicker. "Doesn't make you less of a nerd."

I scoffed and smacked the side of his head. "Just because you don't know what you're doing half the time doesn't mean I have to too," I stated.

"This is probably why everything she makes actually works," Steve said, gesturing to the books.

Howard's smug look dropped into a frown. "If you're talking about that damned flying car again, Steve, I swear to God-"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Easy, tiger," I said, patting his shoulder. "No one's said anything about the car."

He glared at us for a moment longer before letting out a huff. "The science just isn't there," he muttered, looking back to the blue prints.

"It sure isn't," I agreed, giving him a reassuring squeeze before turning my attention to Steve. "Are you busy for the next few hours?"

He shook his head. "I'm free till tonight," he answered, putting the books back into the box.

I beamed at that. "Great," I said, spinning around to look to my brothers only to find them gone. "Ah fuck," I sighed, pushing up on my tiptoes to look over the maze. "Right. Howard, they're your problem now. I'm taking Steve," I stated, grabbing hold of Steve's hand and pulling him off towards his surprise.

"Wait. Where are they?!" he called after us.

"Fuck if I know!" I called back.

"Karma's a bitch, El!"

Steve caught up to me quickly, his fingers lacing through mine. "They'll be okay, right?"

I nodded with surprising confidence. "Jimmy knows how important this place is to me so he'll keep Victor in line," I told him. "They'll probably make it hard on Howard though, just because he makes it so easy."

He nodded his head to the side. "He's not exactly hard boiled."

"No he's not," I agreed, leading him towards the far end of the lab to where I had been working on his surprise. "Just a little bit further," I told him, moving him along a little faster.

Steve laughed again and eagerly followed. "I shouldn't be worried should I?" he asked. "Some of the things you and Howard come up with are…"

"Impressive?" I supplied.

He nodded quickly. "Impressively dangerous."

I let out a snort. "What have I made that have been so bad?"

"Ellie, most of the weapons we carry were designed by you," he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't say any of those are impressively dangerous," I dismissed.

He hummed in the negative. "I don't know, that rifle you made for Buck sure is something else."

I pursed my lips at that, knowing that he was right. "Well, he is the one watching our backs, so I made it a little easier for him."

"And we're all very thankful for that," he said, bringing our hands up to kiss the back of mine.

I smiled at that and moved in front of him, slowing him to a stop. "Stay right here," I told him before pulling away and walking over to standing beside the sheet covered surprise. "Ready?"

He nodded quickly. "Ready."

Grabbing hold of the sheet I jerked it off with a flourish.

"Holy Shit."

The bike was designed based on the Harley-Davidson WLA 'Liberator'. The name seemed fitting for who it was intended for. With the help of Howard I had managed to hand make every piece and part the motorcycle was composed of. Hand painted and assembled with thoughts of Steve during times of stolen peace. The fact that Steve's first response was 'holy shit' made it all completely worth it.

Something keen to a giddy laugh left him. "You made me a motorcycle?" he asked, shuffling forward in shock.

"In one of your letters you mentioned the motorcycle you had to ride for that delivery job," I said, clutching the sheet to my chest. "You said that it made you happy."

"Yeah, it did but I never expected this," he stated, gesturing to the bike with a laugh. "I-how did you even do this?"

I rocked back on my heels. "Determination and a frim understanding of auto mechanics," I answered, nodding my head to the side. "Plus Howard helped with a few things," I added.

He laughed and closed the space between him and the bike. "This is amazing, Ellie," he praised, running his hand across the handlebars. "It's really for me?"

"Yep," I answered, bundling up the sheet and tossing it aside. "She's all yours."

He looked the bike over once more. "This is unbelievable, Ellie."

I beamed up at him. "I haven't even told you the best parts," I stated, pointing to the bike. "So, the front has a similar set up as the back of your suit, several magnets that'll allow you to attach the shield to it," I explained. "There's also a pair of mini rocket launchers and a holster for a shotgun or rifle," I continued, moving down the body of the bike. "It has a rear-facing flamethrower, a deployable trip wire and a delayed self-destruct function. It's all controlled by the panel on the handlebars."

Steve's shock seemed to have double. "Did you say flamethrower?" he questioned.

I nodded and pointed down to it. "It goes about ten feet."

A disbelieving laugh left him. "Like I said, Ellie, impressively dangerous."

I bit onto my lip and rocked back and forth on my heels. "So, do you like it?"

"I love it," he answered without hesitation, holding his arms out to me. "Come here."

I moved around the bike to wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing up onto my tip toes to do so.

Steve's arms wrapped around my waist as he gave me a toe curling kiss, lingering for a blissful moment before he lifted me off my feet and spun me around.

Much to the surprise of the SSR officers close enough to hear a peel of laughter left me, my legs curling up so they didn't flail about.

"Will you go on a test ride with me?" he asked me once he stopped spinning, the excitement on his face infectious.

"Why do you think I made a second seat?" I questioned with a smirk.

* * *

"You're trying to get me killed, aren't you?" Bucky demanded as he walked up to the bar.

I took another sip of my scotch with a smile, the annoyance in his tone coupled with his wind ravaged hair. "Did he take you for a ride?"

"He took me for something," he answered, signaling to the bartender. "I didn't think I was going to make it off that death trap."

I scoffed and reached out to smack his shoulder. "It's not a death trap," I defended. "It's completely 100% Eleanor made."

He let out a withered laugh and shook his head. "No offense, Beth, but that doesn't make me feel safe," he said before flashing the bartender a charming smile. "Hello, sweetheart."

She cocked her head to the side and gave him the worn out tolerant smile. "What can I get for you?"

"A whiskey on the rocks, please. Top shelf," he answered with a wink.

"Coming right up," she said, grabbing a clean glass and turning to the shelves of liquor.

I looked up to him with a raised eyebrow. "Top shelf whiskey?" I questioned.

He held his head a little higher. "I've earned it," he defended.

"Yes you have," I agreed with a smile. "Drink with me?" I requested, gesturing to the seat next to me.

"Don't mind if I do," he mused, dropping down with a sigh.

"We haven't really had much time to talk," I stated, taking another sip from my scotch.

He hummed in agreement. "It's this damned war. Can't have a decent conversation without getting shot at."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, it's always the war's fault."

Sarah appeared once again and set the now filled glass in front of him. "Here you are, Sergeant."

He flashed her a smile. "Thanks, sweetheart," he replied, watching her as she walked off to another customer.

"You know," I started, "if you didn't act like such a drugstore cowboy she might actually take an interest in you."

He pulled a face and let out a scoff. "I am not a drugstore cowboy," he denied. "Howard is."

"That's beside the point, Buck."

He chuckled and took another gulp. "I'm going to tell him you called him that."

I waved him off. "It's nothing he doesn't already know," I dismissed. "All I'm saying is that if you just acted like your normal sweet self she'd probably fall right into your lap."

He pursed his lips and looked back to Sarah, a considering look on his face. "I don't know…." he trailed off.

"Why not?" I questioned. "Not your type?"

A soft laugh left him. "Everyone is my type," he stated.

I gave a shrug. "Then what's the problem?"

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't want to start somethin' I might not be able to finish."

My confusion doubled. "What does that-"

"Hey you two."

We looked over at the sound of Steve's voice and found him standing in the entryway to the main room. His blonde hair was wind swept and his cheeks were flushed pink from the air outside. Despite the fact that he had changed out of his uniform he still looked like a soldier, his posture and stance giving him away.

"D'you get caught in a tornado, Stevie?" Buck teased.

Steve cocked his head to the side and gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, Buck, same one as you," he countered, continuing into the room.

Bucky's eyes shot up to look at his own hair, nearly going cross eyed in the process.

I laughed at that and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, you still look dapper."

He scoffed and reached up to run his fingers through his hair to tame it back down. "How's it look?" he asked, turning towards me so I could see.

I made a show of inspecting his hair before giving him a wink. "Good as new."

"You fuss over your hair more than Ellie does," Steve mused as he took the seat next to me.

"That's because Beth's a bearcat, she can get away with being scruffy," he answered smoothly. "If I'm scruffy I look like a hood."

Steve let out a snort. "You are a hood, Buck."

"And a drugstore cowboy," I added.

"That too," Steve agreed with a nod.

Buchanan let out a frustrated sigh. "I liked you two a lot better when you were both on my side," he stated, taking a gulp from his glass. "It's just not fair."

"Sure, Buck, sure," Steve said, reaching around me to pat his friends shoulder. "So, I had a meeting with Chester."

"And?" I prompted.

"We're shipping out tomorrow morning," he answered, an almost apologetic smile on his face.

Buck let out a humorless laugh. "So much for a week's leave," he muttered, downing the rest of his glass.

I hummed in agreement. "I didn't really expect that to happen, did you?"

"Not really," he grumbled.

Steve looked between the two of us. "I'm sorry."

Buck gave him a small smile. "It's not your fault, pal," he assured him.

"You're just the messenger," I agreed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "It would have been nice to spend more time with Vic though," I mused.

Steve suddenly perked up. "He's coming with us."

"What?" both Buck and I asked.

He nodded quickly. "I just talked to him," he explained with a wide smile. "Since he's not technically here he can go wherever he wants so I asked him to come with us."

"And he said yes?" I asked despite the obvious answer.

"He said yes."

I couldn't help the outburst of laughter that left me at that, the excitement of once again being in the wilderness with my brothers nearly ridiculous. Grabbing hold of Steve's face I pulled him in for a kiss, my smile nearly ruining the whole thing. "Thank you, Steve," I said against his lips.

He leaned into me, drawing out the kiss for a moment longer before pulling back. "He said he was coming even if I didn't ask him so there's not much to thank me for."

"I'm thanking you for asking him at all," I told him, running my thumbs across his cheeks fondly. "You didn't have to."

He gave a small shrug. "Being around him makes you happy."

"You know what makes me happy?" Buchanan suddenly asked. "When you two don't neck."

I rolled my eyes and craned my neck around to look back at him. "Why don't you go talk to Sarah, Buck?" I suggested. "She'll probably give ya the time of day now that your hair is back to normal."

Bucky shot me a sour look. "I already told you, Beth, I'm not-"

"Sarah the bartender?" Steve interrupted, looking to his friend with interest.

Bucky let out a sigh. "Yeah, Sarah the bartender," he answered.

Steve raised a suggestive eyebrow. "What about Sarah the bartender?" he pressed.

"Nothing, Steve," he denied giving me a pointed look. "It's just something Beth won't drop."

"You know I'm right."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"A-"

"Okay, I'm separating you two," Steve interrupted, getting up from his stool. "Ellie, we're going to dinner," he told me, holding his hand out to me. "Bucky, you're talking to the girl."

He let out a sarcastic hum. "I get all tingly when you're bossy like that," he said, shooting Steve a wink.

Steve chuckled at that. "I'll see you in the morning, alright, Buck?"

He nodded. "Have fun you two."

"Get some sleep, Buchanan," I told him. "We need you bright eyed and bushy tailed."

He gave me a thumbs up.

"And talk to Sarah!" I called as Steve led me out the backdoor.


	17. Captain America Part 17

Steve was by no means a heavy sleeper. Even when we were bunked down in the hotel room the lightest noises woke him up. Which was why him startling awake in the middle of the night wasn't all that unusual.

A groan left me when I felt him jolt awake. "It was just a maid," I assured him, having heard the rattle of the cart in the hallway. "Go back to sleep, mon cher."

Steve jerked again, a grunt leaving him.

"Steve?" I asked, rolling towards him. "What is it?"

He was sprawled across the bed with a look of agony twisted across his face. His hands were white knuckled and fisted in the covers, his body strained against the mattress.

"Jesus," I said as I pushed myself up, feeling a little lost at what to do. I'd never seen him have a nightmare like this before. "Steve? Steve, you need to wake up."

He pressed his head further into the pillow and let out a grunt. "No, don't."

"Steve, wake up," I said, reaching out to shake his shoulder.

"Don't."

"It's just a dream."

Something close to a whimper left him. "Ellie."

A pang a guilt shot through me at that and I shook him a little harder. "Steve, you need to wake up."

"Ellie, no!" he shouted before throwing himself forward.

I had moved back just in time to miss being knocked over, a little startled by his sudden movement. It was moments like these that I was reminded just how big he was. The mere width of his shoulders took up more than half of the bed. It was almost terrifying how easily it was to misplace the fact that he was a 240 pound super Human.

"Steve?" I asked hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

"I couldn't move."

My brow furrowed at that and shifted closer to him. "Why couldn't you move?"

"Klaus," he gasped out, his shoulders shaking. "That IV. I couldn't move. I couldn't move."

Realization hit me like a truck. "Oh," I heard myself say.

"He killed you and I couldn't move," he continued, his voice going slightly hallow. "You were dead and I couldn't move."

"Steve," I said, my voice softer than I had wanted it to be. "You can't possibly feel guilty about that."

"He killed you."

I shook my head as I moved to get in front of him, all but crawling into his lap. I pushed him to sit up straight, my hands coming up to cup his face so I could get him to look at me. "Steve, I'm the one who told him to shoot me in the head. If anyone is responsible it's me."

He shook his head slowly, his eyes a little vacant. "I tried to move. I tried so hard. But I couldn't."

"You didn't have to, Steve," I told him, brushing my thumbs across his cheeks. "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."

"He cut your arm off," he stated as if just realizing it. "He cut your arm off and I just sat there."

"No, no, no," I protested, leaning further into him. "You were never responsible for that. Never."

"I couldn't move."

I sighed when I realized that he wasn't going to snap out of it, that I wasn't getting through to him. This wasn't uncommon for me, Jimmy would often get stuck in his nightmares, leaving him to sort out where an when he was. A part of me hoped Steve wasn't going to be that bad; at least he was responding to me.

I climbed off the bed to walk into the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with cold water. I wrung it out and stepped back into the room. "Mon cher, come here," I requested as I stopped beside him, hooking my free hand behind his knee so I could move him around.

He shifted till his feet were on the ground and his head was pressed to my chest.

I brought the washcloth up and placed it across the back of his neck. "Just breathe," I told him, running my hands down his back before wrapping them around his shoulders. "All you have to do is breathe."

Steve did just that, his arms hanging limp at his side as he inhaled deeply.

"Pas plus mauvais rêves (no more bad dreams)," I murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "Pas plus (no more)."

* * *

It had taken me nearly an hour to get him back to sleep. With him lying across me and his head on my chest, I ran my fingers through his hair for most of the night. I had pulled the covers up around his shoulders despite the heard he emitted. The warmer he was the more likely he was to sleep.

I wasn't sure when I drifted off but the resilient sound of chirping birds woke me. Steve was still in the same position I had put him in, draped over me with his head on my chest. I couldn't help but smile as I reached up to run a hand across his blonde hair, taming down the parts that stuck up.

He let out a hum of a sigh as he shifted against me, stretching against the mattress as he woke. "Morning, honey," he mumbled out, his voice thick with sleep.

I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face. "Good morning, mon cher," I greeted back.

Steve raised his head to rest his chin on my shoulder, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" he asked.

I cocked an eyebrow at that. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You only call me 'mon cher' when you're worried about me," he explained with a pointed look. "So what's wrong?"

For a moment I thought about not telling him, to keep the episode to myself and play it off as something else. But this wasn't about me, this was about him and I was worried about him. "You don't remember waking up last night, do you?"

"I woke up?" he asked, pushing himself up so he could look down at me.

I gave a small nod. "You weren't really coherent though," I mused. "I tried to talk to you but you seemed stuck. Kept repeating yourself."

He thought for a moment, struggling to remember any detail. "What did I say?"

I hesitated again and cleared my throat. "That you couldn't move," I answered.

Something close to dread swept over his face. "Oh," he mumbled out.

"Oh?" I repeated, a little surprised at that.

Steve let out a sigh and dropped his head down to my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ellie."

I shook my head. "Explain; don't apologize," I requested.

"It's always the same dream," he said, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. "The basement, the IV, the gun to your head. No matter how hard I try I can't get up from that chair and stop him. Over and over he kills you and I can't move."

I grabbed hold of his face to make him look back to me. "How long has this been going on?" I asked, doing my best to keep the anger out of my voice.

"That doesn't matter, Ellie."

"How long?" I demanded.

"Since it happened."

I was stunned, my anger giving way to shock. "It's been happening that long?" I asked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shook his head. "You didn't need that, Ellie," he stated. "With everything else going on you didn't need that."

"That's bullshit, Steve," I argued, pushing him back so I could sit up. "You have to tell me about these things."

A humorless laugh left him. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I know but-"

"This isn't any different than your nightmares, Eleanor," he pointed out. "You refuse to tell me anything about them. You keep telling me that it's not something I need in my life. How is this any different than that?"

"You're right, it's not," I agreed, slumped back against the headboard. "It's not different at all. We both feel the need to protect each other from our nightmares. How fucking ridiculous is that?"

He watched me for a moment before barking out a laugh, a smile stretching across his face. "Christ," he said, shaking his head.

I chuckled as I rubbed a hand over my eyes. "You've already told me about your dream so it's only fair I tell you about mine, right?"

"Right," he agreed.

I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. "I'm usually strapped to an operating table. Klaus is cutting off my arm, Zola is cracking my chest open, and Johan is telling me how easy it was to kill all of you," I explained, the level of calm to my voice showing just how over the nightmares I was. "Sometimes I see your bodies, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I wake in one of the freezers and I can hear your voice outside the door, but no matter how loud I am you never hear me. They're not very creative but they still scare the shit out of me," I mused, shrugging the best I could.

"I can understand that," he mused, his voice soft. "Sometimes it's just the sound of your head cracking against the table that gets me."

A flush of guilt swept over me and I brought my hand back up to my eyes. "I shouldn't have told him to shoot me in the head," I said, a sneer on my face. "It wouldn't have been as bad if he had shot me in the heart."

Steve cocked a smile at that, his eyes fixed on the spot on my forehead where the bullet had gone through. "You tend to get dramatic when you're angry," he mused.

"Don't smile at that," I told him, smacking his shoulder. "That's not a good thing, Steve."

He shook his head, still smiling. "I never said it was a good thing. I'm just saying that it's not surprising."

I let out a suffering sigh.

"Ellie," he said, reaching out to grab hold of my hand, "the nightmares are just my head trying to wrap itself around you not being dead," he explained. "They're bad, sure, but so were yours at first," he reminded me. "After a while they'll go away and everything will be swell."

"That doesn't change the fact that it shouldn't have happened," I stated, looking sideways at him.

He nodded his head to the side. "True, but you can fix that by not telling psychopaths to shoot you in the head anymore."

I snorted at that. "Oh God."

"How 'bout this," he started, his smile widening, "the next time we find ourselves in a situation where you fell inclined to tell someone to shoot you in the head, I'll tell you to calm down and 'don't lose you head'," he suggested.

I couldn't help the peel of laughter that left me. "That's great," I praised. "I might laugh hysterically but it'll stop me from telling them to shoot me in the head."

"Problem solved," he stated, leaning a little closer to me. "Promise you won't agonize over this?"

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out with a chuckle. "I don't think I can promise that," I admitted. "But I'll try my hardest not to."

His smile widened. "At least you're honest," he said before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," I sighed, leaning into him. "I don't want to go today."

Steve hummed in agreement as he wound his arms around me, practically pulling me on top of him. "We'll have peaceful lives someday," he promised. "When the war is over and Hydra is gone."

I wanted so desperately to believe him, but a part of me knew that it was never really going to be over. Organizations like Hydra are never gone. In fact, never being gone was Hydra's motto. Cut one head off, two more shall take its place. Getting rid of them sounded reasonably doable.


	18. Captain America Part 18

Hiking through hostile territory shouldn't have been so enjoyable. Freshly fallen snow crunched under our feet as we made our way, the white powder muffling the natural sounds of the forest. The chill that it brought with it had us huddled a little closer together, attempting to conserve and share as much body heat as possible without having to stop. Jimmy and Vic had split off from the group to scout ahead the first few minutes into the walk, both of them far too happy to stalk through the snow and trees. I was following behind Steve with Jacques watching my back, the French man having a firm grip on the back of my jacket to keep his footing steady. Our moment of peace was broken as the sun started to slip behind the mountains.

"Do you smell smoke?" Steve asked, his voice quieter than usual.

I hummed in the affirmative. "For a few minutes now."

"D'you think it's a camp?"

I pulled in a deep breath and frowned at the scents that came back. "Hey, Buchanan, can I borrow your rifle?" I requested, breaking from the line to step back to him.

"Will I get it back?" he asked despite the fact that he was already handing it to me.

I gave him a reassuring smile and nodded. "I'll give it back to you in perfect condition," I promised, throwing the strap over my shoulder and making my way back up to Steve. "Jimmy and Vic have stopped moving. I'm going to go catch up to them, see if they've found anything," I explained, leaning down to unlace and pull off my boots.

"Really, Ellie?" he asked with a sigh, holding his hand out for my boots. "It's bad enough that you don't wear socks."

"It's quieter this way," I told him, tying the laces together before passing them off to Steve. "I'll be careful."

An easy smile swept across his face. "I know."

Happy that he wasn't going to argue with me I took off through the woods, following the scent of my brothers. It take me too long to find them, the pair leaning against a tree in a far too nonchalant manner. "What's going on?" I asked.

"There's a camp a few hundred feet forward," Jimmy explained.

"There's at least four scents," Victor added, his nose wrinkling up. "One of them smells off."

Jimmy nodded with a frown. "Mutant."

I looked past the two of them towards the direction of the camp. "I'm going to go take care of it," I told them. "Go back to the others and have them stop till I get back."

Vic pushed off the tree. "I'm going with you."

"I don't-"

"You're good, Ella, but if something happens you can't take four by yourself," he argued. "At least, not without injury."

I watched him for a moment and let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, but if I tell you to do something please listen," I all but begged.

He nodded without hesitation. "This is your show," he agreed.

I was a little surprised by that but didn't comment on it. "Thank you," I said before turning my attention back to Jimmy. "Just have them stay where they are till we get back. Give us twenty minutes."

"Howl if you need anything," he told me as he stepped past, heading back to where the others were.

I let out another sigh and turned back to Vic. "Let's give it a wide birth, come up on them from a different direction," I said, pointing to where I wanted to go. "If they spot us then at least we won't lead them back to the others."

"Since when have you been so strategic?" he asked with an almost gleeful smile.

I scoffed and pushed past him. "Come on, you ass."

Circling around towards the camp took long enough for the sun to sink behind the mountains. The darkness allowed more cover and more lenience for how close we could get. We stopped in a crouch by a cluster of trees once we spotted the glow of the fire.

I pulled Buchanan's rifle from my back and raised it up, using the sight to get a closer look. "You were right about there being four," I murmured, counting the heads. "Three soldiers and one in chains."

He shifted closer to me. "Chains?"

"Mhmm," I hummed, focusing on the one in chains to get a better look at her face. "Mutant," I mused when I saw the bright red eyes.

"Damn."

"She looks pretty young too," I mused, a knot forming in my stomach as I lowered the rifle.

"This is that Klaus guy, right?"

"Probably," I allowed. "He has soldiers go out and grab Mutants for him. He's too lazy to get them himself."

"Are we going to kill them then?" he asked, starting to sound antsy.

I glanced over to him before looking over to the direction the others were in. "I haven't decided yet."

"Then what are we going to do?"

I brought the rifle back up to look at the Hydra soldiers again. "Wound them to the point where they can't run," I answered. "Then we question them."

He shifted in the snow, moving into a position that he could run from. "What do you want me to do?"

"Containment. Go in after the third shot, round up the soldiers," I explained. "I'll get the girl."

He nodded at that. "Alright."

"Remember; third shot."

"I remember."

I took faith in that and lined up the first shot, pulling in a deep breath before squeezing the trigger.

The soldier closest to the girl threw himself forward to the ground, the bullet wound in his knee probably more than excruciating. The second shot went through one soldiers hip, and the third went through the last soldiers calve. Victor was running even before I had lowered the rifle, his hulking frame shooting through the darkness towards the camp.

I threw the strap over my shoulder and started after him, heading straight for the girl.

Her bright red eyes were frantic as she looked between Victor and the soldiers, her arms wrapped around herself as she backed away. The panic turned towards me once I was close enough, the look lessening when she looked me over.

Now that I was close enough I could see just how young she was. She stood almost to my shoulder and nearly half my weight, a baby-doll face with owl like ruby eyes. She couldn't have been older than 11.

I held my hands up to her, a reassuring smile on my face. "Wir gehen nicht, Sie zu verletzen (we're not going to hurt you)," I told her, taking a stab in the dark that she would understand. "Wir sind hier um zu helfen (we are here to help)."

She pulled in a calming breath and nodded slowly.

"Mein Name ist Eleanor (my name is Eleanor)," I said, pressing a hand to my chest. "Er ist Victor, mein Bruder (he is Victor, my brother)," I continued, pointing over to him.

Her attention flicked to him, watching as he gagged the still struggling men, before looking back to me. "Mein Name ist Nadja (my name is Nadja)," she said, her voice surprisingly strong.

I nodded encouragingly at that, stepping closer to her. "Bist du verletzt? (are you hurt?)"

Her hand reached up and touched the her left cheek, the skin there swollen and angry. "Nichts, was ich nicht überlebt (nothing I did not survive)," she answered.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't impressed. "Gut (good)," I mused. "Du bist sehr stark (you are very strong)."

A small smile pulled at her lips. "Ich muss sein (I must be)," she said.

I was really starting to like this girl. "Lassen Sie uns diese Ketten abnehmen (let us remove those chains)," I mused, kneeling down so i could get to them. Breaking the locks weren't too difficult and soon her little wrists were free of the cuffs.

"Ella!"

I spun around at Victor's call and found the calve wounded solider lunging towards us, knife in hand. It didn't take much to stop him in his tracks, a simple show of my claws and a well rounded snarl had him stumbling back in shock.

Victor took the opportunity to put the man in a choke hold, showing tremendous restraint instead of simply killing him.

I retracted my claws and turned back to Nadja, fully intending to consul her but found a look of pure amazement instead.

"Sie sind der Wolf? (you are The Wolf?)" she asked.

I hesitated for a moment, still surprised by her shift in attitude. "Woher wissen Sie, diesen Namen? (how do you know that name?)

She reached out and grabbed hold of my hand, splaying my fingers out. "Die Frau mit Klauen und Stimme eines Tieres (the woman with claws and an animal voice)," she mused. "Die Männer würden flüstern über Sie (the men would whisper about you). Der Wolf (The Wolf.)"

I suppose that wasn't so surprising. "Was haben sie flüstern? (what did they whisper?)"

"Sie hatten Angst vor ihr (they were afraid of you)," she answered, her smile widening slightly. "Dass Sie waren auf der Suche nach dem Arzt (that you were looking for The Doctor)."

"Dr. Klaus Schmidt?" I asked, my interest perked.

She shrugged with a hum. "Sie hat nicht gesagt, seinen Namen (they did not say his name). Es tut mir leid (I am sorry)."

I shook my head and squeezed her hand. "Keine Sorge (do not worry)," I told her. "Ich bin froh, dass du ihn nicht erfüllten (I'm glad you did not meet him)."

"Ich auch (me too)."

"Sorry about that, Ella," Victor apologized as he tied off the last solider.

"Don't worry about it," I dismissed. "Would you stay here with them while I take her back to the others?"

He nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, I'll stay here."

I gave him a pointed look. "No maiming or injuring of any kind till we get back, alright?"

"Alright."

"Victor."

He let out a sigh and nodded. "I won't hurt 'em any more than they already are," he promised.

"Thank you," I said before looking back to Nadja. "Wirst du mit mir kommen? (will you come with me?)" I requested.

She tilted her head to the side. "Wohin gehen wir? (where are we going?)" she asked.

"Einige meiner Freunde warten auf uns (some of my friends are waiting for us)," I explained with a reassuring smile.

Her hesitation disappeared. "Sind sie uns gefallen? (are they like us?)" she asked hopefully.

"Nur einer (only one)," I answered. "Mein anderer Bruder (my other brother)."

She nodded at that. "In Ordnung, ich will mit dir gehen (all right, I will go with you)," she decided.

"Danken (thank you).Komm schon (come on)," I said, tightening my grip on her hand and starting off through the snow, back in the direction of where the others were.

"Wo sind deine Schuhe? (where are your shoes?)" she asked.

I looked down at my feet in surprise, having forgotten giving them to Steve. "Ich wusste nicht, Wölfe Schuhe trug (I did not know wolves wore shoes)," I mused. "Haben Sie einen Wolf in Schuhe gesehen? (have you seen a wolf in shoes?)"

Her face scrunched up in thought. "Ich denke nicht so (I do not think so)," she said, shaking her head. "Aber man kann Schuhe tragen (but you can wear shoes)," she stated, looking pointedly down at my bare feet.

"Ja, ich kann Schuhe tragen, und ich besitze einige (yes, I can wear shoes, and I own some)," I answered before leaning down so she could see my wink. "Aber ich hasse Schuhe. und Socken (But I hate shoes. And Socks)."

A confused giggle left her. "Socken? (socks?)"

I nodded. "Socken (socks)," I repeated. "Sie sind die schlimmsten (they are the worst)."

Her giggles followed us into the dark.

* * *

I couldn't help but wonder what the fellas reaction to Nadja would be. The Mutations they have been exposed to weren't exactly the most outwardly physical attributes. Nadja's mutation, however, was rather striking. Her bright red eyes almost glowed in the dark, flashing every time the light caught them. Just like mine did, but not in an animalistic way. It was a little unsettling, to be completely honest.

"Who's your new friend?"

I pulled from my thoughts to find the fellas in view, all of them watching us approach with curiosity.

Steve had been the one who had spoken, a kind smile on his face as he watched Nadja.

I stopped a few feet back so Nadja could stand between us, the girl looking up at him with wide eyes. "This is Nadja," I told him.

He crouched down in front of her so he was closer to her height. "Hallo, Nadja (hello, Nadja)," he said, his German accent almost comical. "Mein Name ist- (my name is-)."

"Captain America," Nadja interrupted, an unimpressed look on her face. "Jeder weiß, wer du bist (everyone knows who you are)."

He barked out a laugh and looked up at me. "I don't know what she said but it sounded smart-alecky," he stated.

I nodded. "She said everyone knows who you are," I explained.

"And it was smart-alecky," Jimmy added as he stepped over to us, kneeling next to Steve in front of Nadja. "Hallo, kleines Kaninchen (hallo, little rabbit)," he greeted, a tenderness to his voice no one was expecting. "Ich bin Jimmy (I'm Jimmy)."

Nadja had smiled at the sweet talk. "Hallo, Jimmy (hello, Jimmy)," she greeted back. "Sie sind Eleanors Bruder? (you are Eleanor's brother?)"

"Ja (yes)."

"Und Sie sind wie wir? (and you are like us?)" she asked, rocking back on her heels.

Jimmy's kind smile widened into one of amusement. "Ich bin (I am)," he said with a nod.

"Kann ich sehen? (Can I see?)" she inquired.

The elation on his face was unmistakable. He raised his clenched first and slowly extended his claws, making sure that she wouldn't miss a moment of it.

Nadja, utterly fascinated, leaned forward to get a closer look. She reached her free hand up to touch the tip of her index finger to one of his claws. "Das ist erstaunlich (that's amazing)," she marveled. "Und du bist auch ein Wolf? (and you're a wolf?)"

Jimmy looked up to me in surprise as he pulled his claws back.

I let out a soft sigh. "The soldiers talked about The Wolf and she figured out that it was me," I explained with a shrug.

He chuckled and looked back to her. "Ja, ich bin ein Wolf (yes, I am a wolf)," he agreed.

"Ist der andere ein Wolf? (is the other a wolf?)" she asked, dropping her head back to look up to me. "Der Grosse? (the great?)."

I let out a laugh. "Victor?"

Nadja nodded.

"Nein, er ist eine Katze (no, he is a cat)," I told her with a smile. "Eine große Raubkatze (a large cat)."

She giggled at that and pressed back into my legs. "Ein mürrischer Katze (a grumpy cat)."

Both Jimmy and I laughed at that.

"Ja, ein mürrischer Katze (yes, a grumpy cat)," Jimmy said, reaching up to ruffle her hair. "Und du bist ein kleines Kaninchen (and you're a little rabbit)."

Nadja smacked his hand away like any reasonable girl would do with an annoying boy. "Warum nennen Sie mir ein Kaninchen? (why do you call me a rabbit?)" she demanded.

"Deine Augen (your eyes)," he answered, tapping the tip of her nose. "Sie sind wie ein weißes Kaninchen (they are like a white rabbit)."

She scrunched her nose at that. "Ich habe noch nie ein weißes Kaninchen gesehen (I've never seen a white rabbit)," she mused.

I frowned at that. "Ich denke, dass wir ein weißes Kaninchen finden hier in der Nähe (I'm sure we can find a white rabbit around here)," I assured her.

Wonder flashed across her face. "Hier? (here?)" she asked.

"Ja (yes)," Jimmy answered. "Sie verstecken sich in den Schnee (they hide in the snow.)"

Nadja gasped and looked past us towards the snow covered forest.

I smiled at that and let go of her hand, confident in her comfort with Jimmy enough to leave her with him. "Steve?" I murmured as I stepped off to the side.

He got up from his crouch and followed after me. "She's the Mutant?" he asked, his voice low enough for just me to hear. "The one in chains?"

I nodded with a sigh. "They were taking her to the factory," I said.

"Jesus," he hissed, a look of disgust on his face. "What the fuck is wrong with these people?"

"Hell if I know," I muttered, shaking my head. "Victor's back at the camp keeping an eye on the soldiers-"

His attention snapped back to me. "You didn't kill them?"

I shook my head. "No, we need to ask questions and the more people to ask the better," I explained. "Nadja said that they mentioned a doctor but they never used an actual name. It's a pretty slim chance that it's not Klaus."

"You think he's at the factory?"

"That or he's on his way," I mused. "He doesn't really seem like a patient man."

He watched me for a moment. "And if he is at the factory?"

I grimaced and looked down to the snow. "I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know how to beat him, little lone touch him. I mean, you hit him and it did nothing."

He nodded at that, his frown deepening. "It won't be easy," he agreed. "But I know that you'll find a way to stop him."

I gave him a thankful smile. "Let's just focus on the issue at hand," I said, looking pointedly to where Nadja and Jimmy were still talking.

"You weren't kidding when you said kids like him," Steve stated, his smile returning. "I didn't peg him for liking kids though."

"Most people don't," I said fondly. "I'm thinking of having him watch her while we question the soldiers."

Steve nodded at that. "I don't want them anywhere near her," he said, his jaw clenching. "They've done enough."

The edge to his voice made me feel a little sorry for the soldiers. "I think we should have the fellas stay back and set up camp."

"This is your jurisdiction," he told me with a pointed look.

I looked back to the men, a little amused to see them observing Nadja from a safe distance. "It'll give them time to get used to her," I mused.

"Alright," he agreed with a nod. "When did you want to start?"

"We should head out soon," I stated. "I don't want to take the chance of them bleeding out before we can talk to them."

"Then let's go," he said, stepping forward and heading off towards the camp.

His behavior struck me as odd but I didn't comment on it, instead pausing long enough to give Buchanan his rifle back, tell the fellas to start setting up camp and to not wait up for us. I jogged after him, catching up rather quickly. "Somethings wrong," I stated once I was beside him.

"There's a lot of things wrong," he agreed, his jaw clenched. "Like how they were going to take that little girl to that monster, and how he was going to do to her what he did to you," he ranted, anger seething through his tone. "We don't even know how many people he's murdered, how many were like Nadja."

"Her being a child is what bothers you the most, huh?" I inquired, already knowing that was the problem.

He let out a frustrated sigh and stopped. "It still bothers me that he's killing people but…." he trailed off, his brow furrowing.

"But she's so innocent," I supplied.

"Yes."

"It's normal to be more upset about a child's death than an adults," I told him, reaching out to grab hold of his hand. "Children are different, there's an instinctual moral reaction to them. It's why when a child goes missing people who don't even know the family show up to help look for them," I mused, pulling him forward. "There'd be something wrong with you if it didn't bother you more."

He leaned into me. "I just don't understand how someone could do something like that to a kid."

"Me neither," I agreed. "I've seen a lot of terrible things in war but Klaus take the cake."

"I don't care what it takes," he said, threading his fingers through mine and squeezing tightly. "We're going to stop him."

* * *

I was honestly a little surprised to find the soldiers still alive when we got back to the camp, Victor sitting off to the side of them with a bored expression on his face.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled. "They won't stop whining," he said, reaching a foot out to tap the leg of the knee wounded solider, a deep chuckle leaving him when the soldier let out a muffled scream of pain.

I shot him a look. "Because that's definitely unwarranted," I mused. "Who's bleeding the most?"

"Hip," he answered, pointing to the man in the middle.

"Get him up," I instructed as I unzipped my jacket and pulled it off. "Would you hold this for me, Captain?" I requested, holding it out to him.

He smiled at that. "Of course, Agent," he said, taking it from me and folding it gently over his arm. "Give 'em hell."

I flashed him a smile before turning back to Victor, watching as he hauled the man up from the ground.

The soldier groaned in pain as pressure was put on his hip, curling his leg slightly to lessen the pain the best he could.

"He looks pretty out of it," Victor mused, taking note of his pale face.

"That might play to our advantage," I told him, stepping closer to them and leaning in. "Sprichst du Englisch? (do you speak English?)"

He nodded slowly as he swallowed hard.

"Do you know who I am?"

"The Wolf."

I hummed in agreement. "And do you know who I'm looking for?"

He hesitated this time. "Dr. Schmidt."

"That's right,"I agreed. "And do you know what will happen to you if you don't answer my questions?"

His jaw clenched and he nodded.

"Now, I'm a fair person, I believe in giving people a chance," I started, putting some empathy into my voice. "So every time I ask you a question you'll have a chance to answer of your own free will, but if you fail to answer the question or give an answer I know is a lie, you will be hurt. Do you understand?"

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes."

"I'm glad we have an understanding," I mused. "I'll start with something easy. Were you traveling to the Hydra factory in the next town?"

"Yes."

"Were you taking that little girl to the factory?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Do you know her name?"

He blinked in surprise. "W-what?"

"Do you know the little girls name?" I repeated.

Panic flashed across his face and he struggled to think. "I-I don't-" he cut off, looking between me and Steve.

I shook my head. "It's yes or no."

He cleared his throat. "No."

"Are there Mutants at the factory?"

Confusion swept across his face. "What is Mutant?"

I was a little surprised by that. "People like the little girl."

Realization flashed across his face. "You mean abominati-AGH!"

Victor had wrenched the man's arm back half way through the word, a snarl following after.

"That word isn't appreciated in present company," I told him, a hard edge to my voice. "I would recommend you use the term Mutant for the rest of your natural life."

"I will, I will!" he rushed out, nodding quickly as he struggled to pull away from Victor. "I'm sorry."

Victor lessened his grip though the sour look didn't leave his face.

I waited till he caught his breath to continue. "Do I need to repeat the question?"

He shook his head. "No, there are no other-other Mutants at factory," he answered. "It was just going to be the little girl."

I took that as a small blessing. "Is Klaus Schmidt at the factory?"

Panic washed over him and he struggled once again. "No."

I arched an eyebrow. "No he's not at the factory or no you won't tell me?" I demanded.

"No."

"Alright," Victor said before once again wrenching the man's arm, this time a loud crack snapping through the air.

The agonized scream tapered off into pathetic sobs, his now mangled arm hanging limply at his side.

"I'm going to point something out to you," I told him, leaning in close again. "You will not live through this night, for obvious reasons, but you control how you die. Either by the bullet in your hip or by your wrong answers. So you have a choice, you let your loyalty and fear of Klaus get you killed painfully, or you accept the fact that you're going to die and the consequences of what your answers bring won't touch you."

His sobs had shifted into labored breathing, his eyes wild as he watched me.

"You're going to go into shock soon so I would choose quickly," I advised.

He was conflicted for a moment longer before letting out a suffering sigh. "No, he is not at the factory," he answered, his voice strained.

"Smart choice," I praised, pulling back from him. "Are you on a schedule?"

He shook his head. "No."

"When is Klaus arriving?"

"I do not know," he said. "He simply has us keep at least one Mutant in the factories at all times."

My brow furrowed. "You don't know if he's even coming here?"

He shook his head. "He has many soldiers like us," he explained. "We never know when he's coming."

I resisted the urge to lash out at him. "What do you do with the Mutants if he's not there?"

"We keep them alive as long as we can," he answered with a whimper. "It is not easy."

"I'm sure," Victor snarled, jostling him slightly to disturb the injured arm.

"Are you expected at the factory?" I pressed.

He let out a sigh. "Yes, but not at a specific time," he almost assured me. "Hydra knows we are coming back with Mutant, though they do not know when."

I pulled a face and looked to Victor. "Looks like we've got a bit of luck."

He hummed in agreement. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Absolutely," I agreed with a smirk. "Do you know where Klaus is now?"

He scrunched his face in pain and thought. "I-I believe he is near by," he answered. "He does not have a strict schedule. He works around The Red Skull."

"What do you mean around?" Steve spoke up, pushing off the tree he had been leaning against to step beside me.

The solder's eyes widened slightly as he looked Steve over. "They are not, how you say, happy family," he explained, struggling for a moment. "They avoid each other like plague."

"Then why does Johann let him work out of Hydra factories?" Steve asked, the stern expression on his face showing the cogs working in his head.

"I do not know," he answered with a small shake of his head. "I should not even know they are related."

I let out a snort. "It's not that hard to figure out."

"Does not matter," he argued, a wince twitching at his lips. "I should not know."

I let out a hum of consideration and looked up to Steve. "Would you like to ask your questions?"

Steve squared his shoulders and leveled his glare with the soldier. "Yes, yes I would."


	19. Captain America Part 19

It had taken us less than an hour to question the three soldiers, Steve rather efficient when it came to his questions, not flinching or wavering when Victor broke something. It was a little sick but I was almost proud of him. Okay, that was a lot sick. After our questions and brains were exhausted Steve and I left the soldiers in Victor's hands, neither of us bothering to ask what he was going to do with them before walking back to our camp.

The fellas were seated around the fire, their respective gear set up behind them. The smell of food wafted through the air, letting us know that they had started dinner as well.

My attention went to Jimmy and Nadja, a soft smile pulling at my lips when I saw the child asleep in his lap, curled up like a pup.

"How're the croutes?" Dugan grunted out once we were close enough.

"At the mercy of Victor," Steve answered with a tired sigh, practically throwing himself down beside the fire. It seemed that his late night was catching up with him. He hunched forward and scrubbed his hands through his hair, effectively ruining the neatness he usually kept it in. "For being Hydra soldiers they were surprisingly disloyal."

I frowned at that. "I'm not entirely sure that they're Hydra soldiers," I mused, taking the spot next to him.

He looked over to me, confusion on his face. "What makes you say that?"

"Have you encountered a Hydra soldier that didn't have a cyanide tooth?" I questioned. "Or one that didn't spout the usual bullshit about cutting heads off?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I haven't," he answered.

I nodded and pointed back to where we had just come from. "Not one of those men mentioned anything about Hydra," I pointed out. "Not without us mentioning it first."

He gave a nod of agreement. "So you think they're just Klaus' men?"

"I think they're Nazis'," I stated. "Given to him to help further his research."

Gabe let out a huff. "You think Hitler's backing what he's doing?" he asked.

"It makes sense if you think about it," Bucky spoke up, his eyes still locked on the fire. "If he had an entire army of people like Beth and Jimmy he'd win the war in a week."

Both Jimmy and I let out a snort of laughter.

"If Hitler wants Mutants he's looking to the wrong brother," Jimmy stated, keeping his voice soft so as not to wake Nadja. "Klaus is taking Mutant's apart, not making them."

"Speaking from a scientific point of view, Zola's the only one making actual progress with anything," I said, shaking my head. "As fucked up as that is."

"That's really fucked up, Beth," Bucky stated.

I nodded before dropping my head to Steve's shoulder. "Yes it is."

Steve shifted a little closer to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. "Most things in war are," he agreed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I'll take the first watch-"

"Vic and I will take it," Jimmy interrupted, giving Steve a pointed look.

Steve looked like he was going to argue but a subtle head shake from my brother silenced him. "Alright," he sighed, slumping further into me.

I chuckled as I moved to accommodate his sudden weight. "I hope you don't think you're sleeping on me again," I told him.

"Why can't I?" he asked, smirking as he went completely limp against me.

A grunt left me as we slumped to the side, pushing me on top of Buchanan. "Because you're heavier than you look," I said, pushing against him. "And I don't need everything from the neck down going numb again."

Snickers erupted from the men at that.

"What kind of things are you two getting up to in that room of yours?" Jim questioned with a smirk.

Steve's face flushed and he opened his mouth to shoot off a smart ass remark but I beat him to it.

"Trust me, you'd know if we were getting up to something cause the walls would be shaking," I told him with a wink.

A bark of laughter left Steve as he buried his face into my side, struggling to keep his laughter quiet.

"There'd be dust coming from the rafters and pictures falling off their nails," I continued, doing my best to keep a straight face. "You'd think we were being bombed."

Everyone was struggling with their laughter at this point, none of them wanting to wake Nadja.

"Ella, that's not something a brother wants to hear."

I craned my neck around to look at my newly appeared brother, not at all surprised that he had managed to sneak up on me. "Please, I've heard you get up to so much worse," I stated. "Like that opera singer you took up with in Paris. You could hear you two a block away."

Victor snickered at that, looking awfully proud of himself. "She did have a pair of lungs on her, didn't she?" he asked. "D'you know whatever happened to her?"

"Despite what you seem to think I don't keep tabs on your jilted lovers," I answered, patting Steve's shoulder to get him off me. "I don't need that drama in my life."

"How do you think we feel?" Vic grumbled, taking the vacant spot next to Bucky.

I let out a snort. "Don't bitch about the mess you get yourself into," I said. "You don't have to sleep with them."

"Do you really want to talk about people we didn't have to sleep with?" Jimmy asked, giving me a pointed look.

I pursed my lips and leaned back slightly. "No, no I don't," I answered, clearing my throat. "What did you end up doing with the soldiers?" I asked, effectively changing the subject.

He gave me a knowing look but allowed the change. "Nothing too special," he answered. "Though anyone who finds them is probably going to lose sleep."

I grimaced at that, really not wanting to think about it. "What about the first one? With the hip wound?" I continued.

"I let him bleed out first," he assured me, still seeming a little confused about why I had promised the man that to begin with.

I nodded and leaned further into Steve. "Good," I mused, myself a little confused on why I had promised the man that to begin with as well. Maybe I was going soft. I was most definitely going soft.

A peaceful silence settled on our group, the long day's walk catching up with us, not to mention the chill coming off the snow. We ate in silence, none of us having a topic important enough to interrupt. Once the food was gone we settled in for the night, the fellas hunkering down into their sleeping rolls, their blankets wrapped tightly around them with their backs to the fire. I ended up between Steve and Buchanan, both men occupying a section of my space, our bed rolls overlapped to make it appear that we had more space than we actually did. Steve, for once not taking the first watch, was sleeping horizontally, wrapped around me like he did when we shared an actual bed. Buchanan was on his back, his blanket thrown over him almost carelessly. I had paused to watch him for a moment, silently wondering when the cold had stopped bothering him like it usually did, recalling all the times that he hadn't reacted to extreme weather the same way the others did. It caused a seed of worry to sprout in my chest, the concerns I had had after Dr. Zola's experimentation coming back full force. Bucky was changing and it was scaring the shit out of me. I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, pulling it closer to me so I could hug it to my chest.

"Lizzy?"

"Hmm?"

"I told Nadja that I'd take her home."

I wasn't surprised. "Where is her home?"

"Back the way we came," he answered with a sigh. "About 15 miles."

"That'll take you at least two days."

"Yep."

"D'you want me to go with you?"

He grunted in the negative. "You have to go to the factory."

"Klaus isn't there or more Mutants."

"But that doesn't mean there isn't a lab," he pointed out. "You're the only one who understands the research."

"Don't remind me," I grumbled, shifting my head forward to press into Buck's shoulder. "How are we going to stop him? What can we possibly do?"

"I don't know but it can't be physical."

"If it can't be physical then what-" I cut off when something clicked in my head. "What about mentally?"

He let out a snort. "What? Like hurting his feelings?"

"No," I said, raising my head from the ground to look over at him. "Telepathically."

Confusion pulled at his face. "Like what you do with animals?"

I nodded quickly. "Yeah."

"Lizzy, he's not an animal."

"We're all animals," I argued. "If I practiced enough or if Howard can figure out a way to boost it, maybe I can get into his head. Maybe I could stop him."

He watched me for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't know, Lizzy," he said, skepticism in his voice. "That doesn't sound..."

"Just think about it," I implored. "It's the best option we have right now."

Jimmy sighed and nodded. "I'll think about it," he agreed, "but I don't want you and Howard cooking up some science bullshit to mess with your brain. Do you understand?"

"For now."

* * *

The next morning we were up before dawn, the early light turning the clouded sky a vibrant orange. Admittedly I took a few pictures of the scenery and the fellas, maybe a few more of Steve. I even took a picture of sleeping Nadja, the little girl dead to the world while we tore down camp. It wasn't till Jimmy went over to her did she get up.

"Bringst Du mich nach hause? (will you bring me home?)" she asked, her voice groggy as she rubbed the sleep form her eyes.

Jimmy nodded as he handed her his breakfast ration. "Ja, ich werde dich nach Hause bringen (yes, I'll take you home)," he agreed. "Essen Sie Ihr Essen und wir gehen (eat your food and we will go)."

She hummed in compliance and began to eat, her nose scrunching at the taste.

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me as I watched her. "Hier kleines Kaninchen (here, little rabbit)," I said, digging into my pack and pulling out the apple I had stashed there. "Knabbern Sie an, dass (nibble on that)," I told her, tossing it over.

Nadja caught it easily, a wide smile stretching across her face. "Danke, Wolf (thanks, Wolf)!" she called before taking a rather large bite.

"How come you don't give us apples?" Gabe demanded, looking a little put out.

"How about this, the next time we get captured by Nazis I'll give you all apples," I said, refastening my pack.

He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. "The fact that there will be another time should automatically earn us apples."

I rolled my eyes and got back to my feet. "How far as we from the factory?" I questioned, looking to Steve.

Steve's brow furrowed as he look down at the map in his hands, his lips pursing slightly. "About 23 miles," he answered. "What's your idea?" he asked, recognizing the look in my eyes.

"Well," I sighed, looking over to the fellas, "maybe a little infiltration?"

He arched an eyebrow. "How do you plan on doing that?"

I smirked at that. "Hey, Vic, you kept those uniforms right? Like we used to!?" I called.

He nodded without looking over at me. "Course I did."

"Great," I said. "Anybody wanna play dress-up?" I asked, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear me.

Confused expressions turned to me, all of them silently asking me just what the fuck I was talking about.

* * *

"We're just going to walk in?"

"Yes."

"Just walk through the front doors?"

"Yes."

"Right in?"

"Yes."

"Am I the only one who thinks this is dangerous?"

"Yes."

"Okay then."

I smirked at Dugan's discomfort and fastened the last button on the uniform's jacket. I smoothed my hands across the shoulders before taking a step back to admire my handy work. It was a little snug, Dugan was barreled chested while the soldiers hadn't been, but it still looked presentable. Buchanan's uniform looked a size too big but the length of the pants were right. Victor's uniform had almost been hopeless, the mere bulk of him straining the jacket without it even being buttoned. Thankfully he had brought along one of his black coats, the length covering the fact that he wasn't wearing a uniform, but it looked important enough to not raise questions. When I had first proposed the idea Steve had been adamant about wearing one of the uniforms, until it was pointed out to him that all of Germany knew what he looked like. He stayed quiet after that.

"You look rather dashing for Nazis'," I praised, looking them over.

Bucky cocked his lips into his trademark smirk. "Danke, doll (thanks, doll)."

I scoffed and turned to look over to Jimmy and Nadja. "When are you two heading out?" I asked.

"Now," Jimmy answered, his hand coming up to rest on Nadja's shoulder, "but she wanted to say goodbye first."

I crouched in front of Nadja to smile up at her. "Ich werde dich vermissen, kleines Kaninchen (I'll miss you, little rabbit)," I told her.

She rocked on her heels before pitching herself forward to throw her arms around my neck. "Ich werde dich auch vermissen, Wolf (I'll miss you, too, Wolf)," she said. "Werde ich dich wiedersehen? (Will I see you again?)"

I decided against telling her the truth. "Natürlich wirst du (of course you will)," I answered, rocking her back and forth. "Werden Sie für mich mutig sein? (will you be brave for me?)"

"Wie kann ich etwas anderes sein? (How can I be anything else?)" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

I chuckled at that and shook my head. "Sie können nicht (you can not)," I answered. "Und seien Sie nicht etwas anderes (and do not be anything else)."

"Das werde ich nicht (I won't)," she promised.

"Gut (good)," I praised, reaching up to tap her nose. "Werden Sie von meinem Bruder für mich kümmern? (will you take care of my brother for me?)"

She nodded quickly. "Ich werde! (I will!)" she exclaimed.

"Vielen Dank (thank you very much)," I said before getting back to my feet. "Maybe write down her address, if you happen to notice it."

"If I notice," he agreed with a smirk.

"Kann ich sagen, Abschied von der großen Katze? (Can I say farewell to the big cat?)" Nadja asked, pointing over to Vic.

A sour look crossed the man's face. "Who are you calling a big cat?" he demanded.

Snickers passed through the men.

"Ich bin kein großer Katze (I'm not a big cat)."

She scrunched her nose at him. "Du bist (You are)."

He growled at that. "Ich werde Sie essen (I will eat you)."

She gave a defiant look. "Sie werden auf mich ersticken (You will choke on me)."

Vic barked out a laugh and looked up to me. "She's like you," he stated. "Why aren't we keeping her again?"

I let out a snort. "We can't just keep other people's kids, Vic," I told him. "Besides, do you really want to raise another me?"

His eyebrows shot up. "No. Take her back."

"That's what I thought," I mused with a wink before looking back to Nadja, her insistent sleeve pulling finally catching my attention. "Ja? (yes?)"

"Werden Sie übersetzen? (will you translate?)" she requested, gesturing to the others.

"Ich werde (I will)," I told her before looking up to the others. "She wants to say something to you all," I told them.

While surprised they gathered around, unsure smiles on their faces.

"Ich wollte Ihnen für alle danken Ihnen im Krieg getan haben (I wanted to thank you for everything you have done in the war)," she said.

I couldn't but smile. "She wants to thank you for everything you've done in the war."

"Für das Halten wir sicher (for keeping us safe)."

"And for keeping them safe."

"Ich weiß, du wirst gewinnen (I know you'll win)," she said, rocking back on her heels.

"She says she knows we'll win."

The unsure smiles on the fellas faces were now bright and beaming.

Nadja gave a firm nod before looking to Jimmy. "Das ist alles, was ich sagen wollte. Wir können jetzt gehen (that's all I wanted to say. We can go now)," she told him.

He nodded and held his hand out to her. "Dann mal los (let's go)," he said.

She took his hand and all but dragged him off, eager to get home.

"And that, lads, is why we do it," Dugan spoke up.

"She was a sweet little thing, wasn't she?" Jim spoke up.

Frenchie nodded. "Petit fleur (little flower)."

"Aww, you're all a bunch of softies," I cooed, genuinely surprised by how taken they were with her. "Regular pussy cats."

Gabe snapped his fingers and pointed to me. "We'll deny it if you tell anyone," he told me.

"Sure," I agreed with a wink before turning to Steve. "I think we'll head out ahead of you guys," I mused. "We'll sneak around and see what we can find before you get there."

"You know, they might recognize you. You said that Klaus gave your pictures to all of his men."

I nodded my head to the side. "I have an idea to get around that," I assured him, "but if they do recognize me there isn't much they can do that they haven't already. Though, it might get Klaus here sooner, hell, they might even contact Johann."

"Or they might ship you off somewhere else," he countered with a pointed look. "They know that wherever you are I'm close by, and they know what we do to their factories. The last thing I want is them sending you somewhere I can't follow."

"That's sweet, soldier, but do you really think I'd let them cart me off like a circus animal?"

He sighed at that and leaned closer to me. "Sometimes, Ellie, they don't give you a choice," he reminded me.

"They're going to have a very hard time not giving me that choice," I told him, reaching up to grab either side of his face. "They haven't managed to take me from you yet, and they're not going to start now," I said, rocking up onto my toes to give him a quick kiss. "Now stop worrying and get back to ending the war."

Steve smirked. "One more and I'll stop worrying."

I smirked back and leaned into him again, lingering longer than I had before.

He sighed into me, his hands coming up to grip my waist. He puled back after a moment and pressed his forehead against mine. "You'll be careful," he said, more to himself than to me.

"I'll be careful," I promised. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Are you two done being disgusting?" Buchanan's voice spoke up. "'cause we've got a war going on, in case you forgot."

Steve scoffed and looked over to his best friend. "If you want a kiss, Buck, all you gotta do is ask."

"Yeah, Buchanan, I don't mind."

Bucky rolled his eyes and flipped us off.


	20. Captain America Part 20

"I can't believe you had him do that. Steve'g going to flip his wig when he finds out. Is that why you didn't want him to come with us? He's going to get here and you're covered in blood. You know he's going to blame me."

Three hours into our walk to the factory we had stopped to get me looking like a POW. Once the chains had been secured I told Victor about my plan to keep them from recognizing me. A punch to the face that resulted in a shattered nose and a fountain of blood. Neither Dugan or Buchanan had been happy about it, Dugan understood my logic while Buchanan had nearly lost his head.

"Are you done?" I asked, looking over my shoulder to him. "Because they're going to hear us coming if you keep it up."

He glared at me. "No, I'm not done," he said before looking to Dugan. "Tell me that doesn't bother you?" he demanded, pointing to my blood caked face.

Dugan's mustache twitched slightly as he looked me over. "Course it bothers me," he answered, "but she knows what she's going."

Bucky scoffed and dropped his arm back to his side. "Are you fucking serious?!" he asked. "That's not the point, Dum Dum!"

He held his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry but I can't argue with her like you can," he stated. "She outranks me."

"She outranks me too."

"I outrank all of you," I stated with an eye roll. "I outranked Steve at one point too but then all that Captain America bullshit happened."

Dugan chuckled while Bucky's frown deepened.

I took a note of it but didn't comment. "Anyway, since neither of you speak German I would recommend not speaking," I told him. "If someone asks you a question, stare them down and keep staring till they leave. If it's an important question Vic will answer it."

"What about names?" Dugan asked.

"As far as they're concerned you don't have them," Vic answered. "Don't chit-chat, don't overcompensate, don't look like you're looking for something."

"Never underestimate the power of a uniform," I added. "If you act like you belong somewhere then people will think you do. It's all a matter of how you hold yourself."

"We ain't actors," Dugan grumbled.

I nodded my head to the side. "No, you are not, but if you fuck this up you'll get us all killed," I told him.

He rocked back on his feet. "So, no pressure."

"Just act like you're not getting paid enough for this shit and you'll be fine," Vic advised them.

Buck let out a humorless laugh. "We're not getting paid enough for this shit."

"Well there you go," he said, reaching back to clap him on the shoulder.

Buck looked far from impressed.

"Was ist Ihr Unternehmen hier?! (what's your business here?!"

Victor didn't falter as he dragged me towards the front gate of the factory. "Ein neues Haustier für den Arzt! (a new pet for the doctor!)" he called back, jerking the chain so I stumbled forward.

"Er kommt hier ?! (he's coming here?!)" one of the guards shouted back.

"Wie zum Teufel soll ich das wissen?! (how the hell should I know?!)" he demanded. "Öffnen Sie die verdammte Tür! (open the damn door!)"

There was a moment of silence before the large wooden doors creaked open, several Hydra guards stepping out to take us in.

Victor didn't stop at the sight of them, instead tugging me along as he marched towards them, Dugan and Bucky not far behind us.

The guards stepped out of our way, seeming to decide just then that they weren't going to stop us.

"Wie war deine Reise? (how was your journey?)" a more friendly looking guard asked, the stripes on his arm showing his higher rank.

Vic looked him up and down before answering. "Warum sollten Sie das? (why would you care?)"

A genuine laugh left the man. "Alle von Ihnen haben so einen wunderbaren Sinn für Humor! (all of you have such a wonderful sense of humor!)" he praised, looking past Victor to Dugan and Buck. "Ist Dr. Shmidt auf dem Weg? (is Dr. Shmidt on his way?)" he asked.

To their credit they didn't respond.

Victor leaned over so the man looked back to him. "Das heißt klassifiziert, (that is classified,)" he said, a slight growl in his voice. "Sie kennen diese (you know this.)"

An uneasy smile crossed his face but he nodded. "Richtig, natürlich (right, of course,)" he said. "Möchten Sie mir, Ihnen zu zeigen, wo es zu setzen? (would you like me to show you where to put it?)" he asked, gesturing to me.

Sticking to the roll of unwilling prisoner I spat at the man, a glob of saliva and blood landing on the front of his jacket. I was on my knees a moment later, Victor's elbow shooting back to once again crush my nose. Sometimes I worried about how easily Victor fell into the villain role.

"Wenn Sie hätte nichts dagegen, (if you would not mind,)" Victor answered as if nothing had happened.

The man nodded slowly as he looked between me and Vic. "Folge mir, (follow me,)" he instructed, backing up and starting towards the back of the factory.

I stumbled to my feet and followed after, making a show of struggling as I did so. Bucky and Dugan followed behind me, probably a little too close but not close enough to cause suspicion. Though I refrained from tripping in the worry that one of them would try to catch me.

After parading us through nearly the entire factory the man stopped at a pair of cellar doors and pulled them open. A sour looked crossed his face when he got a whiff of the smell.

"Ich weiß nicht, wie man den Geruch stehen kann, (I do not know how you can stand the smell,)," he muttered, stepping away from it. "Wir haben versucht, es zu reinigen, aber niemand hat den Magen, (we tried to clean it, but no one has the stomach,)" he explained with a weak chuckle.

Victor smirked at that. "Der Geruch stört uns nicht, (the smell does not bother us,)" he stated. "Es ist eigentlich ganz nett, (it's actually quite nice.)"

The sad thing was that Victor wasn't lying. He had acquired a certain liking for the smell of death thanks to the Civil War.

The guard had the sense to look uneasy. "I-Ich werde dich jetzt verlassen, (I-I will leave you now,)" he stuttered out before clearing his throat. "Wenn Sie alles einfach benötigen fragen, (if you need anything just ask.)"

Victor gave him a gruff nod before looking back to Dugan and Buck. "Gehen," he said, nodding down towards the darkened stairs, handing the chain out to Dugan as he did so.

They didn't hesitate, the pair starting down the stairs with the confidence of someone who had gone down them hundreds of times. I had a firm grip on both of their shoulders, a reassuring squeeze as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Three more steps and we're at the bottom," I whispered to them.

"Can't see a fucking thing," Dugan grumbled.

Behind us Victor pulled the cellar doors closed, dousing us in even further darkness. He jogged down the stairs and moved passed us, the sound of him moving things following before the bright operation lights above came to life.

I groaned in discomfort and ducked my head. "Jesus, Vic, a little warning next time," I hissed.

"Sorry," he said, though he was far from it.

"Oh my God."

That had come from Dugan, his eyes locked on the closets operating table.

My stomach rolled when I saw what he did.

What had once been a body was now a half decomposed mess of muscle, bone and bodily fluids.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he said, his shoulders hunching as he covered his mouth.

"Vic, cover them will you?" I requested before looking to Buchanan, wanting to see if he was in the same shape as Dugan. I was sorely disappointed.

Buchanan was staring at the corpse like he was remembering something not quite there, a far off look in his eyes.

"He alright?' Vic asked as he tossed a sheet over the body.

I grabbed his arm and turned him towards me, breaking his line of sight with the body. "You with us, Buck?"

He snapped out of it with a blink, the distance in his eyes vanishing. "Yeah, I'm with you," he answered, clearing his throat. "Jesus, look at your face," he said, just seeming to notice the new spout of blood. "Does it hurt?"

I gave him an easy smile and shook my head. "Nah, broken noses only hurt for a few minutes," I told him, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose. "It always heals straight too."

"Steve's going to have a heart attack."

I rolled my eyes. "Please don't start that again," I pleaded. "I'll wash it off before he gets here."

He scoffed and pointed to the large blood stain on my shirt. "That's not gonna wash off."

"I packed a change of clothes."

He let out a calming breath. "The fact that you planned to get covered in blood makes me concerned," he stated, giving me a pointed look.

I gave him a nod. "That's a valid concern, Buck," I praised him.

A groan of frustration left him. "Why aren't you normal?"

"Ah, leave her be," Dugan spoke up, apparently over his nausea. "Eleanor's just fine."

"Thank you, Timothy," I said, shooting him a wink.

He nodded quickly and waved me off, his eyes looking anywhere but the table. "So what do we do now?" he asked.

"I'm gonna go topside," Vic told him. "I think I scared 'em enough to leave me alone."

"You'll probably scare them more if you act like you're inspecting the place," I told him. "I don't think they're too keen on Klaus, do you?"

He barked out a laugh. "Not after seeing that," he agreed, nodding over to the table as he started up the stairs.

"Maybe try to find out where Johann is," I told him. "If him and Klaus avoid each other they might have his location."

"Will do."

"Dugan, will you go with him?"

"Suuure," he said with slight hesitation, "but if I get shot I"m going to haunt your ass," he added, following Vic up the stairs.

I rolled my eyes again and moved away from the stairs, not taking the chance of anyone seeing me roaming free. I dug a hand into my pocket and produced the handcuff key, my fingers working quickly to unlock them. They hit the floor in a chorus of chinks, the chain trailing behind them like a tail. I rolled my wrists in circles as the raw skin healed, my attention going to the freezers that sat in the corner.

"If he has those then why did he leave this body out?" Buck asked, looking to the freezers as well.

"Maybe he left in a hurry," I theorized, walking over to them and pulling open the closest door.

Empty.

I pulled open the next one.

Empty.

And the next.

Empty.

The next.

Empty.

Next.

Empty.

And the last.

Empty.

"What the fuck..." I trailed off, looking back to the body. "Buchanan, will you check the desk?"

"What am I looking for?" he asked as he walked over.

"Research. Autopsy reports. Anything that proves that Kluas was here," I answered, heading back to the body. I lifted the sheet up and pulled in a deep breath, grimacing as the various scents hit me. "Male, middle aged, been here about 3 months," I mused.

Bucky glanced back to me. "You can tell that from smelling him?" he asked, pulling open the desk drawers and riffling through the papers inside.

"I can tell a lot from smelling him," I stated, straightening up and letting the sheet drop. "Like how he's Human."

"What?" he asked, abandoning his search. "I thought Klaus only experimented on Mutants?"

I nodded. "He does. Did you find anything?"

He shook his head and turned back to the desk. "There's paper but none of it's written on. It's all blank," he answered, pulling open the last drawer. "See?" he asked, holding up a blank autopsy report.

I looked the lab over again and pulled in another deep breath. The room had definitely been home to carnage but the smell of it was old, older than the body. "This feels staged."

"You're picking up on that too, huh?" he asked, tossing the paper back into the drawer. "What do we do?"

"Normally I would say that we leave."

"But Dugan and Victor."

I nodded. "But Dugan and Victor," I agreed, looking up to the cellar doors.

"I could go look for them," he offered.

"No, no, I don't want us separated," I denied, gesturing for him to stay where he was.

He seemed content with that. "Do you want to wait for Steve?"

"What if this is for him?"

"So you want to warn him?"

"But what if we're wrong?"

"Beth, I'm hearing a lot of ifs," he pointed out. "Your gut feelings are just as accurate as Steve's are. What is this one telling you?"

I took in the room one more time. "This isn't-" I cut off when a muffled familiar sound reached me.

"Beth?"

"Shh!" I hissed, straining to listen. My heart sank when the sound came closer and closer. "Buck, come on, we gotta get out of here," I said, already heading for the stairs.

"What is it?" he asked, following after me.

The cellar doors flew open and Victor and Dugan peered in.

"Ella, we gotta-"

"I know! How long do we-"

A far too close explosion was my answer.

The building shook and sent dust flying, shouts of surprise and shock ringing out from the factory floor.

Bucky got to me faster than I thought he would and grabbed onto my arm. "Come on!" he yelled over the chaos, all but dragging me up the rest of the stairs.

We ran across the factory floor, dodging through Hydra agents who made no attempt to stop us. We made it half way before the bombs hit the building.


	21. Captain America Part 21

It all happened so fast. The first few bombs destroyed the roof, raining bricks and steel beams onto the factory floor. Screams of pain and terror mixed with the explosions and plane engines. I grabbed Bucky and dragged us under a nearby workbench, the heavy wood blocking most of the falling debris. I had lost sight of Dugan, but I had no doubt that my brother would keep him safe. Any thoughts of getting out of the factory were replaced with simply surviving through this. Buck had fought me at first but ultimately he allowed me to all but wrap myself around him, covering as much of him as I could manage. Admittedly, staying under the table probably wasn't the smartest plan, but it was better than nothing.

"This doesn't look good, Beth!"

"I've never been in a good bombing before!"

"That's not funny!"

"I think it's hilari-"

That's when everything went black.

* * *

_**The red door was in front of me this time, the ominous hum it gave off quivering my stomach. I backed away from it as far as I could, bumping into the wall.** _

_**"I don't think it likes you."** _

_**I looked over and found Morte leaning against the wall next to me. "I don't think it does either."** _

_**"What happened this time?"** _

_**"I was-" I cut off, frowning as I struggled to remember exactly what had happened. "I think there was a bombing," I decided.** _

_**Concern flashed across her face. "You must have a very bad head injury if you don't remember," she mused. "Where does it hurt?"** _

_**I ran my hand through my hair, flinching when I reached the back. "Everywhere," I answered. "Jesus, that's gotta be bad."** _

_**She hummed in agreement. "Who are you with?"** _

_**"Buchanan," I answered instantly, surprising myself. "I'm with Buchanan. Is he alright? Please tell me he's alright."** _

_**Morte gave me a reassuring smile before her eyes clouded white, a distant look taking over her features. "He is….he is crying."** _

_**Shock shot through me. "What?"** _

_**"You are lying in his lap….your head is cracked open…he is covered in your blood…."** _

_**"Oh God," I groaned. "Morte, I can't leave him there. Not alone," I said, reaching out to grab her arm. "You have to send me back."** _

_**Morte grimaced and tried to pull her arm back. "Lune, you know I cannot do that," she said. "You must heal first."** _

_**A growl left me before I let go of her arm. "Fuck!" I snapped, pushing off the wall. "If anything happens to him, Morte, I swear to God!"** _

_**"Steve is with you, is he not?"** _

_**"We went ahead of him, he might not make it in time!"** _

_**Morte's eyes clouded white again. "Your soldier is running…he is close," she told me. "He will make it."** _

_**My panic lessened at that. "Thank you, Morte Fluer," I sighed. "I'm sorry I grabbed you."** _

_**She gave her a reassuring smile. "I understand, Lune Fluer," she said. "I am sorry I cannot help."** _

_**I ran my hand back through my hair, putting pressure on the spot that had hurt. It wasn't as sharp as it had been before but it still hurt.** _

"Bucky?! Ellie?!"

_**I jumped and spun around, Steve's voice echoing through the room.** _

"OVER HERE! WE'RE OVER HERE!"

_**That was Bucky's voice.** _

"I hear something!"

_**And Gabe.** _

"WE'RE OVER HERE!"

"Cap, over here!"

_**"What's going on?" I asked, looking over to Morte.** _

"WE'RE DOWN HERE!"

_**She tilted her head to the side. "I believe your Auditory Cortex is healing."** _

"Bucky?!"

_**"My what?"** _

"STEVE! WE'RE DOWN HERE!"

_**"It's-" Morte cut off, realization washing over her face. "It's something you will learn about later."** _

"Are you alright?!"

_**"You will start breathing soon," she mused. "Though I am sure that you will not wake up for quite some time."** _

"I'M FINE BUT BETH'S- BETH'S NOT-"

_**"I think you'll be leaving me soon."** _

"It's okay, Buck! She'll be okay!"

_**"Sometimes I wish our visits weren't so short."** _

_**"Well, there is a war going on, I'm sure I'll see you soon."** _

_**"I'm sure you will."** _

* * *

The first thing I acknowledged was the smell of fire. And not the camp fire smell, but a chemical fire smell. It wasn't as bad as some of the other chemical fire smells I had been subjected to, but it still wasn't pleasant. The smell of gun powder, hair gel, and Old Spice aftershave was next. Buchanan's smell. He was alive.

I pulled in a deep breath and struggled to open my eyes, a sliver of gray sky appearing.

"Beth?"

The sliver grew and Bucky's face came into focus. His hair was disheveled and his usually washed face was smattered with a shocking amount of blood. "Jesus Christ, what thee fuck happened to you?"

A shocked laugh left him and he shook his head. "You got hit in the head pretty hard and you, uh, you kind of..." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "got all over me."

"That's me?" I asked, pointing to the blood on his face.

He nodded. "It's you."

"I am so sorry," I said, trying to push myself up from his lap.

"Wow, wow," he said, tightening his arms around me to keep me down. "Beth, you just came back from the dead, I don't think you should be moving around yet."

I shook my head. "I'm fine, Buchanan," I denied, struggling against him. "It was just a minor head wound."

He let out a scoff. "Minor head wound?" he repeated. "Beth, you were hit with a steel beam! The entire back of your head was gone!"

I rolled my eyes but slumped back onto him. "My entire head has been gone before."

He glared down at me. "That's not the fucking point, Beth."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I feel like you've been swearing at me a lot more lately," I mused.

He gave a nod. "Well, I feel like you've been a lot more stupid lately, so the swearing is appropriate."

I thought about that for a moment before nodding my head to the side. "That's fair," I allowed. "I'm sorry I got blood all over you."

His soft smile reappeared and he pulled me a little closer to him. "I'm just glad you're back, Beth."

I smiled back, taking notice of just how bloodshot his eyes were. Morte did say that he had been crying. I reached up to grab his face, rubbing my thumbs across his cheeks. "Are you okay?"

"I am thanks to you," he said. "Beth, if you hadn't of been there I would be dead. That beam would have-" he cut off, shaking his head. "I would be dead."

"Well, that was the whole point to me clinging to you like a koala," I told him with a small nod.

A snort of laughter left him. "Clinging to me like a koala," he repeated, more to himself than to me. "Are you sure you're alright? I don't think you're alright."

I scoffed and squished his cheeks together, puckering his lips. "I'm perfectly fine. Now say 'tweet tweet'," I requested.

His face twisted into confusion. "Tweet tweet?"

"Aww, you're adorable," I praised, letting his face go.

"Yeah, you're not fine," he mused before looking up from me. "Hey, Steve, your girl's gone goofy in the head."

I scoffed and smacked at his chest. "I've always been goofy in the head," I stated, finally pushing myself up. My vision black out for a moment as a wave of dizziness came over me. I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, the rush fading away.

"You alright, Ellie?"

I looked over and found Steve crouched behind a disgruntled looking Dugan, both men dust covered. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright," I answered. "What about you fellas?"

Dugan let out a grunt. "Dislocated my shoulder," he grumbled. "But it would have been worse if Victor hadn't of puled me out of the way."

My brow furrowed. "Vic actually helped you?"

"Your surprise is insulting."

I craned my beck back to find Victor leaning against a nearby chuck of factory. He was just as dust covered as the others, but sport of dried blood showed that he'd taken some damage. "You don't really have a track record of being helpful, Vic," I told him. "I mean, you've left me in a fire before."

He shrugged lightly. "You got out fine."

I rolled my eyes but dropped the subject. I reached back and touched at my blood crusted hair, grimacing at the feel of it. "Did any Hydra make it?"

"A couple," Steve answered. "The others are keeping an eye on them."

"Do they know anything?"

"They're just as clueless as we are," Buck stated, sounding awfully put out by that. "You saw 'em when the bombs dropped. Runnin' around like damn chickens with their heads cut off."

I gave a nod. "So it wasn't them. But they were Keinkel He 111 models," I stated. "German planes."

"How the hell do you know that?" Buck demanded.

I looked back to him. "In the lab, remember? I recognized the engine sound."

He gave me a look of disbelief. "Honestly, Beth, that's fucking ridiculous."

"Hey," Steve protested, shooting his friend a glare.

I shook my head. "Swearing at me is how he copes with my antics," I explained. "We've discussed it. It's fine."

He didn't seem too sure about that but didn't press the subject.

"So what are we thinking happened?" Dugan continued, wincing as Steve rotated his recently relocated shoulder. "They bombed their own factory?"

"I don't think it's that simple," I said, shaking my head. "That lab was staged, the body was Human, and there weren't any in the freezers."

"No research either," Buck added.

"Klaus hadn't been there in a while. A long while," I stated, before a thought crossed my mind. "Did that one officer make it? The chatty one?"

"Didn't see him with the survivors," Vic answered, seeming to have the same thought as me. "He didn't sound right, did he? Talkin' like they'd seen hundreds of Klaus' experiments."

"I didn't see him when we went back up ether," Dugan spoke up, looking over to Vic. "Did you?"

He shook his head.

"He must have known what was coming."

"You think Klaus had the factory bombed?" Steve asked, not sounding all the surprised.

"Either him or Johan," I said with a shrug.

"What if they worked together on this?" Buck asked, nodding his head towards the destroyed factory.

I let out a snort. "Then they did our job for us."

That earned me a few chuckles.

"They had to have known where we were," Steve said, more to himself than to us. "Exactly where we were."

"There's not that many factories left, Stevie," Bucky pointed out, the nickname seeming to just slip out. "They could have bombed the others for all we know."

"If the others were bombed then it was definitely Klaus."

"Eleanor's right," Dugan agreed. "We already know that Johan and Klaus don't like each other. I doubt they respect each other's property."

"Either way, let's not go assuming things till we've got the facts," Buck concluded, looking pointedly to Steve. "There's no need for you to flip your wig over a possible leak this soon."

Steve seemed to hesitate for a moment before relenting with a nod. "Alright, Buck, you're right."

"Damn right I am."

Steve smiled at that before he turned his attention towards me. "A couple of the trucks made it through the bombing. Once we get everything taken care of we'll pack up and head out to go get Jimmy."

Vic let out a scoff. "He can find his own way back."

"I already told you that I'm not going to leave him," Steve said, shooting my brother a glare. "We're going to get him."

"Thank you, Steve," I said before shooting a glare of my own at my brother. "And you wonder why no one likes you."

He shrugged and looked away, completely unbothered by our displeasure with him.

I rolled my eyes at him before I pulled myself to my feet, teetering slightly when I was at full height. "Well, if we're going to be in public I'm going to go wash the blood off of myself," I announced.

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "How are you planning on doing that, Ellie?" he asked. "I, uh, I don't think any of the sinks survived."

I shook my head. "Nature, Steve, nature," I corrected him. "I'm going to go find a stream or a river or something."

Victor barked out a laugh. "Jesus Christ, Ella."

"Shove it, Vic. Buck, do you want to go with me?" I asked, looking down to him.

He watched me for a moment then sighed. "Yeah, I'll go with you," he decided, crawling to his feet. "I should probably get all the you off my face."

I let out a snort of laughter. "I'm a little proud of you for managing to make such a subtle dirty joke."

Bucky paused at that, his brow furrowing as he worked through that. "Jesus Christ, Beth," he said shaking his head. "Sometimes I think you're brain is more twisted than mine is."

I scrunched my nose at him. "You love my brain," I teased.

"It's terrifying."

"You're not the first person to tell me that. Right, Steve?"

He gave an innocent shrug. "You're brain is terrifying, honey. There's no denying that."

"No there is not," I agreed with a wink. "Right! let's go find a river or a stream or something," I said, heading off towards the sound of running water.

* * *

The sound of running water turned out to be a pretty sizable creek. It was nestled back in the forest behind the ruined structure, a mere ten minute walk. As soon as we reached the water Bucky pulled off the uniform jacket, dropped to his knees and scrubbed at his face with a handful of water.

I tugged my ruined T-shirt over my head and crouched down to soak the shirt in the water.

Bucky did a double take at me when he noticed my lack of clothing. "Please tell me that Steve's seen you like that more than I have. Cause I'm really not looking forward to the conversation if he hasn't."

I rolled my eyes. "I think we're all past the point of modesty. You and the fellas have seen me in less."

"We also saw you get your arm cut off," he reminded me. "Is that something else we're past the point of? Cause I really don't want to see that again."

I wrung the T-shirt and shook it out, pleased to find that the cold water had managed to get most of the blood out. "I'd say that you'll never see me get my arm cut off but given the fact that you just saw my head bashed in with a steel beam, I'm not going to make any promises."

He nodded slowly as he considered that. "That's reasonable of you," he allowed. "But, uh, a false sense of security would be nice."

"I can do that," I said with a nod. "We are past the point of you seeing me get my arm cut off."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," I responded, tossing the shirt out onto the snow. I dropped a knee and leaned forward to do as Bucky had done. I scrubbed a moment longer before shifting towards Buck. "Did I get it all off?"

His brow furrowed as he looked to me, a frown pulling at his lips. "No. Here," he said, reaching up to grab hold of my face. He rubbed his thumbs across my chin, smearing the remaining blood. "He wasn't happy about this, by the way," he told me.

"Did you tell him that it was my idea?"

"Yes."

"Did he blame you?"

"No. He blamed your brother."

My eyebrows shot up at that. "Really?"

He gave a nod. "They kind of got into it," he explained. "Nothing bad enough to break up but still."

"What'd they say?"

"Steve said that he shouldn't encourage your impulsiveness. Victor said that it was his job to encourage anything and everything you set your mind too. They argued about the morality behind that for a while till Jimmy came up."

"Vic wanted to leave him here," I remembered.

Buck nodded. "He was pretty adamant about it too. Kept saying that it was how your family did things."

"He wouldn't be lying."

"You would really leave him here?"

"No. Despite some popular opinions I'm not completely heartless."

He let out a soft laugh, a smile twitching at his lips. "No, not completely," he agreed. "Though I feel like you're a little less heartless since you started going with Steve."

I scoffed lightly. "Are you saying I'm going soft?"

"For him? Yes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

His smile widened. "No, Lizbeth, I don't think it's a bad thing," he assured me.

I hummed in appreciation. Of course I knew that Steve was making me soft, I would have had to have been blind not to notice. Hell, even Vic had noticed and he's only been with us for a few days. It was almost ridiculous, but in all honesty, I wouldn't have it any other way.

With one final swipe across my chin he dropped his hands. "There ya go. Good as new."

"Thanks, Buck," I said, wiping the excess water off my face. "Do you think I could get it out of my hair?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "D'you really want to try?"

I thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Yes," I said, rolling back to pull off my boots. I tossed them towards where my T-shirt was drying before rolling up my pants.

"You're not seriously going to walk out into the water, are you?"

"Yep," I answered, pushing myself to my feet and stepping out into the water. I held my arms out to my side to keep my balance on the rocks. I stopped when the water reached just below my knees and swung down, effectively dunking my head into the frigid water. I scrubbed my fingers through my hair and loosened the hardened blood. After a moment of scrubbing I leaned up and pulled in a grateful breath, wringing the water from my hair.

"How are you not freezing?" Bucky demanded.

I raised an eyebrow and looked through my hair at him. "I could ask you the same thing," I pointed out.

He watched me for a moment before a knowing look crossed his face. "You, uh, you noticed that, huh?" he asked, looking down at his cold reddened fingers, the obvious sting not effecting him. "That's not normal, is it? I should feel that."

"Probably," I agreed, stepping over to crouch in front of him. "How long have you noticed?"

He gave a small shrug. "Long enough to be somewhat okay with it," he answered, flexing his fingers. "I've thought about saying something to Steve or you but..." he trailed off.

"But what?"

He gave another shrug. "But there's always been something more important," he answered. "I just kinda put it on the back burner, ya know?"

"Well, we're going to put it on the front burner now, okay? When we get back to base we'll have Howard run a couple of tests. The same same ones he did for me. We'll figure out what's going on."

"Thanks, Beth, but, uh, I think I know what's going on."

I nodded at that. "You know, when Zola had us he told me that the research he had done on me had helped him finish another one of his projects," I explained. "He wouldn't tell me what it was but I had a feeling."

"Yeah, he wouldn't tell me either," he said with a laugh. "But knowing who he is now it's not that hard to figure out. Do you think I'll get big like, Steve?" he asked, looking up to me with an almost hopeful look.

I gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I think we're past that point, Buck."

"Shit," he sighed. "That really doesn't seem fair. I mean, all Steve had to do was get into a pod! I was a POW for months before I got my shots. If anyone deserves to get bigger it's me."

I nodded my head to the side. "Sure, but think about this. Steve grew nearly three times his height and weight. You're more than a decently sized man, could you imagine what you'd look like if you grew three times that?"

He considered it for a moment before a frown pulled at his face. "It sure as hell would make dancing difficult."

"And we wouldn't want to deprive the ladies a dance with you, would we?"

His smile returned. "We sure wouldn't," he agreed. "I guess us Super Solider's can't all be the same, huh? There's gotta be some variety or we'll lose our charm."

"Yeah! Plus there's plenty of things that you can do that he can't," I reminded. "Like, he wouldn't be able to sleep in the snow without gear, and he sure as hell wouldn't be able to hit a moving target at 350 ft. away."

A snicker let him at that. "He wishes."

"I wish I could," I told him. "Do you know how much easier everything would be if I could?"

He reached out to bumped one of his hands against my knee. "I'll show you how but you gotta teach me how to howl. And not that bullshit howl everyone else does; I want your howl."

I barked out a laugh and nodded. "Alright, you've got a deal," I told him, reaching up to grab a hold of his face. "We're going to be okay, Buchanan," I said, leaning forward to press my forehead to his. "We are."

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting go of some of the tension he had built up. "You promise, Beth?"

I hesitated at that. Going off of past events I wasn't all that comfortable making promises. "Well, it's not a false sense of security," I compromised.

"It's better than nothing."


	22. Captain America Part 22

This time around Steve drove the truck. There weren't as many surviving Hydra Agents as we had originally counted, some of them mustering up the cowardliness to break their cyanide tooth before anyone had the thought to remove them. We managed to cram all of us into one truck; a feat that wasn't accomplished without some complaining. I had taken command of the passenger's seat, my feet propped up on the dash with my right hand clasped with Steve's in the middle. The map was spread across my lap, a vague guide to yet another dirt road in enemy territory. However, the fact that we were doing this in broad daylight seemed to stave off the feeling of dread form the last time we went on a family road trip. Hell, Steve was even humming.

* * *

It was dark by the time we made it to the village. The once coveted truck was now a hated travel companion, the damn thing getting stuck in the snow and mud every chance it got. We probably would have gotten there sooner if we had walked.

The village itself looked like it had gone through more than its fair share of battle. The buildings closest to the fence had been reduced to half standing walls and fire scared remains. The main road, which had been paved at one point, was now a hazard of broken concrete and rubble. There was no way the truck could make it over that.

"Well," Steve sighed as he pulled the truck to a stop, "looks like we've hoofing it."

Victor let out a frustrated sigh and leaned forward between the seats. "Howl for him."

I glanced back at him. "You can't be serious."

"Ella," he warned.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, but if we get shot at again I swear to God," I muttered, cranking down the window and shifting in the seat to lean out. I cleared my throat and pulled into a deep breath before letting out the howl.

A tense moment of silence filled the truck before a high pitched whistle responded.

"Wasn't that a lot easier than looking for him?"

"Yes, you're so clever," I deadpanned.

A growl left him. "You haven't eaten today, have you?" he asked. "You always get bitchey when you're hungry."

I set my jaw as I twisted around in my seat to glare back at him. "Yeah, okay, but what's your excuse?"

"You didn't eat today?" Steve asked. "Why not?"

I sighed and slumped back in the seat. "I gave Nadja my apple and I'd honestly rather eat my own foot than another ration pack so…." I trailed off with a shrug.

He gave me a look. "That's not healthy, honey," he told him.

"I agree, eating my own foot would be unhealthy."

He smiled despite himself. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

I smiled back and shot him a wink. "I know but I'm not in the mood to argue with you so I made a joke instead."

Victor let out a snort. "Sure, you don't have a problem ripping my head off but got forbid you argue with Steve," he muttered.

I let out a frustrated sigh and twisted around once again, all but kneeling in the seat to glare. "See, the problem is if I rip your head off you'll be perfectly fine and won't hold it against me," I explained, "if I rip Steve's head off then that's it, he's done and I'm pretty sure I'll get court-martialed for killing Captain America. See, there's a different set of rules for you and him," I said, gesturing between the two of them. "Plus you have to love me. Steve? He can change his mind."

"For the record, I'm not going to change my mind," Steve inputted.

I flashed him a smile. "You say that now but wait till I try to rip your head off."

He chuckled as he shook his head. "Okay, honey. Love you."

"Love you, too," I told him before looking back to Victor. "See? Different rules."

Victor glared at me but didn't respond.

"That…isn't Jimmy, is it?"

I twisted back around and squinted through the windshield, spotting a man standing just inside the village waving to us. "No, that's not Jimmy," I answered. "He's either a happy villager or a very friendly unfriendly."

"Does he…" he trialed off, cocking his head to the side, "want us to go to him?"

My brow furrowed. "I think so?"

"I thought we weren't getting out of the truck?" Bucky asked, sounding awfully put out. "Beth howled so we wouldn't have to get out of the truck."

I rolled my eyes and looked back at him. "How about this, Buck? Steve and I will get out of the truck and you can stay here?"

He gave me a snarky smile. "I love that plan," he said. "Thank you, Lizbeth."

"You're welcome, Buchanan," I said, reaching back to pat his head before turning back to Steve. "I'm going to apologize in advance if this turns out to be a trap."

Steve winked at me as he grabbed his shield. "Well, at least we're going in together."

"You two make me nauseous," Victor stated.

"Shut up, Victor," I told him, opening the passenger's door and hopping out. "If we're not back in fifteen minutes come and find us."

"I'm not getting out of the truck," Buck said as I closed the door.

"And Vic said I'm the bitchey one," I muttered, walking around the front of the truck to where Steve was waiting for me.

We made our way up the destroyed road, hands clasped together to help each other in the dark. The man waited for us, his almost unsettling wide smile becoming more and more visible.

"Guten Abend! (good afternoon!)" he said once we were a few feet away. "You are Eleanor and Steve, yes?"

I couldn't help but smile at how he pronounced our names. "Yes, we're Eleanor and Steve," I told him. "And who might you be?"

"I am Wolfgang," he said as he gestured to himself. "Nadja's uncle."

"She's alright?" I asked.

He nodded quickly. "Ja, ja, she is just right," he said. "She has told us that we have you and your soldiers to thank. We are making celebrations as we speak. Jimmy is there now," he explained. "You must join us as well."

Steve squared his shoulders and gave him a soft smile. "That's a very generous offer-"

"So you will join us. Wonderbar!"

He gave a soft laugh. "I would accept if it were just us," he continued, "but we have prisoners with us as well. I don't want to expose you and your people to that."

Wolfgang's excitement didn't diminish. "That is no problem," he dismissed. "We have had many military pass through here; we have accommodated."

I arched an eyebrow. "Accommodated? For prisoners?"

He nodded his head to the side. "For the convenience of the soldiers," he answered. "It is better for all of us, in the end."

I nodded and cleared my throat. "Like Steve said, that's a very generous offer but they aren't normal prisoners. They're Hydra."

His eyebrows shot up. "Have you taken out their tooth?" he asked. "They have tooth, you know."

Steve and I once again shared a look. "We got the teeth."

"Good, good," he praised. "They tend to last longer without the teeth."

"So you've held Hydra Agents before?" I asked.

Wolfgang gave a small shrug. "There have been a few," he allowed. "Not many but enough to learn from consequences."

Steve shifted his stance, still a little hesitant. "I'm still not…."

"Please," he implored. "One night of peace for you and your men. As thanks for bringing our Nadja back."

I smirked and glanced up to Steve. "Wolfgang, would you excuse us for just one moment?" I asked, already pulling Steve a few steps back.

"Ja, ja."

Steve gave him a thankful nod before turning to face me. "Ellie, I don't know about this," he muttered.

"The way I see if we have two options," I started, "option 1, we drive to the rendezvous point a few miles away and sleep in the truck. Option two, we stay here for the night and give everyone the break they should have gotten a long time ago."

"That's a little manipulative, honey," he pointed out.

"Yes it is," I agreed with a nod, "but it wouldn't be manipulative if I wasn't right."

"I never said you weren't right," he muttered, a wry smile pulling at his lips.

I raised an eyebrow. "So we're staying?"

He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, Ellie, we're staying."

* * *

It took nearly ten minutes for Steve to be satisfied with the Hydra Agents containment. He checked every cuff, and every chain at least three times each before I managed to convince him that everything was going to be fine. Once he had calmed down enough to actually leave Wolfgang led us and the Commandos to the town hall.

Apparently, when Jimmy arrived with Nadja the entire village had thrown together a celebration; a celebration that Jimmy hadn't been able to say no to. So the party was in full swing when Wolfgang pulled open the doors, the muffled sound of merriment reaching full volume in an instant. Much to the relief of many of us he didn't announce our arrival, instead he ushered us into room and told us to make ourselves comfortable. The fellas gladly accepted and dispersed, half going to the food and half going to the unaccompanied women.

"Lizzy!" Jimmy's voice sounded over the music.

I braced a hand on Steve's shoulder and pushed up onto my tiptoes to peer over the dancers. He was sitting in the far corner with Nadja in his arms, the little girl fast asleep in his arms. "D'you think we can make it across the room?" I asked, lowering myself down.

"I think we can manage it," Steve said, grabbing my hand off his shoulder and starting through the crowd.

I huddled behind him, absolutely loving how he didn't even have to ask people to move for them to do just that.

"So what happened to not blowing this one up?" Jimmy asked once we were close enough.

Steve barked out a laugh. "We didn't really have a choice in the matter, Jimmy."

"It wasn't us. Didn't you hear the Keinkel HE 111 Models?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He pulled a face. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"They're German bomber planes," I told him.

"Oh course you would know that," he said, rolling his eyes. "I heard planes, Lizzy, but this is a warzone, they tend to happen. So, they bombed themselves, huh? They keep that up we're going to be out of a job."

I let out a snort. "Because that would be terrible," I muttered before turning my attention to Nadja. "I can't believe she's sleeping through all this noise."

Jimmy craned his neck down to look at her. "She's been out for almost half an hour. It took twelve songs but I got her out."

My smile widened. "You danced with her?"

He let out a sigh. "Well, much like you, I didn't really have a choice in the matter," he answered.

"You can't say no to her, can you?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"You're wrapped around her little finger, aren't you?" I tacked on.

Jimmy pulled another face. "Okay, you two need to walk away because I'm not waking her up," he told us. "Go on. Dance or something. Shoo."

"What do you say, honey? Wanna dance?" Steve asked, smiling down at me.

I glanced over to the band. "I'd love to, soldier. It's a little faster than we're used to though," I warned him.

"Yes it is and that's why you're going to lead," he said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

I couldn't help but laugh as I led Steve out onto the dance floor.


	23. Captain America Part 23

We ended up how we always end up. My arms around his shoulders, head pressed into his neck with his arms around me. The band had slowed down a few hours into the night and we slowed with them. Every dance ended like this, us lasting as long as the musicians could play.

This was one of those nights.

"I'm glad we stayed," Steve murmured as he swayed us in a circle.

I pulled in a deep breath and tightened my arms around him. "Me too. Did Frieda talk to you?"

He gave a soft chuckle. "Yeah, yeah she did. Gabe ended up having to translate but it was still nice," he explained. "You two talked for a while."

I let out a hum. "She was telling me about her family tree. Every generation has had at least one Mutant in it," I told him. "Now I can't help but wonder about my family."

His hand trailed up my back, his fingers pressing along my spine. "Did you keep tabs on them? After everything?"

"Would it be pathetic of me if I said yes?"

Steve pulled back slightly to look down at me. "Honey, why would it be pathetic?"

"Because the only one left to keep tabs on was my mother," I sighed. "Thomas is the common denominator between the three of us, if the Mutation is inherited from the parents then we got it from him. But, Thomas never talked about his family, not even with Victor. I guess I could trace back the family line if I really wanted to but…." I trialed off.

"But you don't want to," he finished.

"No," I answered, pressing my face further into his neck. "I still don't know why I kept tabs on Lizbeth. I hate her, absolutely hate her but I did."

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and let out a sigh. "You have every right to hate her, honey," he said, "but you can't help that she's your mother. A part of you will always have a connection to her."

A frustrated groan left me.

His laugh ruffled my hair. "Do Jimmy and Victor know?"

I barked out a laugh of my own. "I'm sorry, have you met my brothers?" I asked, pulling my head back to look at him. "Could you imagine the conniption bitch fit they'd throw if they knew?"

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "Conniption bitch fit," he repeated. "That's a new one."

"You know I'm right."

He nodded. "Yeah, you probably are," he allowed. "So what happened to her?"

I sighed and dropped my head back to his chest. "To her credit she never remarried, despite the various offers. She seemed smart enough to know that they were only after her money and not her heart. She died almost twenty-three years later, at the age of 49 which at the time was a considerably old age, so she lived a pretty full life."

His hand resumed tracing my spine. "Did you ever think about going to see her?"

"Once or twice," I admitted. "When she was getting older and I knew she wasn't going to live much longer, but I never had anything important enough to say to justify it. Besides, we were knees deep in the Civil War, we had bigger things to worry about."

He kissed the top of my head again. "Sometimes I forget how long you've been doing this," he mumbled. "Why am I the one leading our rag tag group of soldiers again?"

I chuckled. "Because you're the Star Spangled Man with a Plan," I said. "You're strong and brave here to save the American way."

Steve stilled. "Ellie, please tell me you didn't find a recording."

I pursed my lips. "No, I didn't find a recording."

He sighed.

"I found the sheet music, though."

He groaned and went deadweight, making me keep him up. "Ellie," he groaned.

I laughed and tightened my arms around him, keeping him from the floor. "Aw, mon chere," I cooed, kissing along his jaw. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's just me."

He groaned again in answer.

"Alright, if it'll make you feel better I'll stop looking for things," I told him. "But I'm keeping the posters."

Steve sighed and lifted his head, a soft smile on his face. "Do you really like them that much?"

I gave a small shrug. "It's your artwork."

Surprise flashed across his face. "I never told you that."

"You didn't have to. I know your work when I see it."

His face flushed and he cleared his throat. "I guess you can keep the posters," he muttered.

"And the trading cards?"

"You have the trading cards?"

"Howard managed to get me the first printing."

"Of course it was Howard," he sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, you can keep the trading cards too."

I beamed up at him. "You're an absolute peach, you know that?" I asked, kissing his jaw again. "If you want to be on more equal ground I'm sure I could track down a few of my old posters? I don't have trading cards but I'm wearing a red dress with a rather scandalous split up the leg."

He tilted his head towards me, a smirk on his lips. "Do you still have the dress?" he murmured.

I had to think for a moment. Where had that dress ended up? "You know, I'm not quite sure, but I happen to know where I can get a new one," I told him, dropping my voice as low as his. "Maybe blue instead of red? To match your eyes."

Said blue eyes darkened. "Honey, you look beautiful in any color," he told me, grazing his lips across my cheek. "But you know which outfit I couldn't get out of my head?"

"That blue dress Howard put me in?"

"No," he hummed. "That first day of basic training, when you punched Hodge."

My brow furrowed. "That?" I asked, thoroughly confused. "Steve, I had woken up ten minutes before heading over there. I looked like a gutter snipe having a bad hair day."

"You looked like an angel," he corrected. "When you came across the lawn with the sun behind you…" he trailed off with a small chuckle. "Honey, you were glowing."

It was my turn to blush. "Are you forgetting how poor your eyesight was at the time?"

"Even a blind man can appreciate beauty."

I'll admit, I went a little weak in the knees. "Oh, soldier, you're treading into very dangerous territory," I told him.

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his breath raising goosebumps. "Well, I've never been one to back down from a dangerous situation," he said, trailing his lips down my cheek till he was kissing the corner of my mouth.

"Lord knows that's the truth," I sighed before closing the space between us.

Steve hauled me closer to him, his hands gripping at my back and hips as he drew me in. A soft moan left him as I pressed up onto my toes to lean further into him, my hands running up the back of his neck before threading into his hair.

Admittedly it was a frenzied moment. It had been a stressful day, what with the bombing and everyone nearly dying, so it was understandable that we were a little wound up. The fellas had coped with drinking and eating the kind villagers out of house and home while Steve and I made out on the dance floor like a pair of teenagers.

All in all it was a very good night.

* * *

"I outa court-martial you."

I looked to Chest as if he had grown three heads. "Why? I haven't done anything," I defended.

He raised a grizzly eyebrow. "You damaged government property," he stated. "Unless it was a frisky Hydra Agent who gave Captain America those hickeys."

Realization swept over me and I couldn't help but laugh. "How the hell do you know about that? You haven't even seen Steve yet."

"No, but I've seen Stark and he was all too happy to tell me what he saw," he explained, cocking his head to the side. "Nice to know that he wasn't just trying to get a rise out of me."

"Of course it was Howard," I muttered as I shook my head. "Let's hope that man never falls into enemy hands, they'll have all our state secrets before dinner."

Chester let out a huff. "You say that like I don't know," he grumbled. "Why do you think I'm against you taking him anywhere? He's a walking liability, but that's not the point, Howlett. We're talking about the damage you did to government property."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being such a prude, Chester," I chastised. "And stop calling Steve government property."

"Technically he is."

"Technically you're being an asshole."

He gave a nonchalant shrug as if he was all too aware of that fact. "Just stating facts. And for the record I'm not being a prude," he added, pointing to them, "I'm being responsible. I can't have Captain America distracted in the field."

"Don't insult me," I scoffed. "You know that if I thought I was causing a problem I would remove myself from the situation."

He watched me for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Somehow I think that you removing yourself would cause a bigger problem," he stated. "Rogers is already a big enough pain in the ass when it comes to you."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"He was pestering me about leave for you the two of you, something about-" he cut off and slumped back into his chair. "Oh."

"What?" I demanded.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Sorry, Howlett, that's classified."

I shot him a glare. "That's bullshit and you know it."

"Bullshit it may be but it's still true," he said, sitting up straighter and giving me an authoritative look. "Now get out of my office, and send Rogers in after you."

A moment of defiance swept through me but I resisted the urge to pester him for more information. This involved Steve after all, it couldn't be anything horrible. "Fine," I sighed, getting up from the chair. "But I'm not happy about it."

"There's a shock."

I made quick work of the walk into the hall, not all that surprised to find Steve and Buck waiting there. "You're up, soldier," I said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Buck and I are going to go talk shop with Howard. Come find us when you're done, alright?"

Steve's smile dropped slightly and he shot a glance towards Buck. "Uh, actually I've got a couple of things I have to take care of."

"Oh, okay," I said, flashing him a reassuring smile. "I'll see you later tonight then?"

He nodded. "Yeah, absolutely," he promised before stepping away into Chester's office.

"He's up to something," I stated as soon as the door closed.

Buck let out a small laugh. "What makes you think that, doll?" he asked, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me down the hall.

"He looked nervous," I accused.

"You make him nervous."

I scoffed and smacked his chest. "I haven't made him nervous in almost a year," I argued. "Chester said that Steve's trying to get leave for us and now he's acting all flustered. What the hell is he doing, Buchanan?"

He gave me his best innocent face. "How should I know? Contrary to popular belief he doesn't actually tell me everything," he said, jostling me slightly. "Come on, Beth, this is Steve we're talking about. You know he doesn't have a stealthy bone in his body."

I nodded my head to the side. "He is kind of like a bull in a china shop," I allowed.

"He's probably still antsy about the whole bombing thing," he suggested. "You know how he is when something doesn't follow his plan."

"Anal retentive."

"Exactly!"

"Alright, alright," I sighed, leaning into Buck's side. "I'll stop overanalyzing it."

"Good," he encouraged, dropping a kiss to my temple. "Cause I'm about to have needles shoved in me and I need someone sane to hold my hand."

* * *

It took Howard little over two hours to run through the tests. A majority of them would have to be sent out to a lab back in the states, marked classified of course, but it would take a while for them to get back to us. Though he was able to confirm, from comparing our blood samples, that Bucky's cell structure was now nearly identical to mine. He theorized that if the mutation continued then Buck would heal like I do. He'd be a Mutant, or a Super Solider depending on how you looked at it.

To his credit Buchanan didn't lose his shit like most people would have. He asked his questions in a calm and orderly manner, accepting what he was given and what he was not. I wish I could say that his calmness was a comfort but in all honesty it was a little unnerving.

"You really have accepted it, haven't you?" I asked, hoping that was the reason for the calmness.

He let out a soft sigh and looked down at his hands in his lap, his fingers twitching slightly. "I learned a long time ago that if you resist against something that no one has control over you'll end up insane," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't resist something that's a part of me, physically or mentally. Not really at least. I might as well accept that this is what I am now and save myself the headache."

"That's a little morbid, Buck," I told him.

A humorless chuckle left him. "Yeah, yea it kind of is," he agreed, clenching his hands closed before releasing them. "But it's the truth. At least this way I might be more useful."

"What?" I demanded, reaching out to grip his chin and make him look up. "James Buchanan Barnes, you are always useful. What makes you think you're not?"

Buck's face contorted as his eyes watered slightly. "Stevie doesn't need me anymore. Not really," he said. "He's-he's Captain America now, he doesn't need me to protect him."

I sighed and stepped in front of him, raising my other hand to cup his face. "Why do you think I made that rifle for you?"

He sniffed. "Because I'm the company sniper."

"No, because you're the one watching Steve's back," I corrected. "Do you know how many times you've saved his life since he's become Captain America? All those Agents that he didn't see coming that you took down before they could even reach him? You might not think that you're useful to him but he would be dead at this point if it wasn't for you. And as for Steve not needing you anymore, that's complete and utter bullshit. Steve is always going to need you; you're his family. Do you think that either of my brothers need me to keep them safe? Or that I need them to keep me safe?"

He shook his head.

"No, we don't but we're family so we do it anyway because we love each other," I continued. "I know that Steve loves you just as much as you love him and that's not going to change just because he's more proportionate. D'you know that most of his plans hinge on you watching his back? He doesn't tell you that, but they do."

Buck crinkled his nose and blinked several tears back. "Why wouldn't he? If it's part of the plan?"

"Because he knows he doesn't have to ask," I told him. "He knows you're going to do it because you're his Bucky and you always have his back."

He sniffed again and let out a long breath, the tension in his body easing. "You're right. I'm sorry, Beth, I just…." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know. I guess that's been knocking around in my head for a while and I didn't…."

"Let me guess, there was always something more important?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you have to stop doing that," I told him. "Bottling those kinds of things inside is going to make you snap, and it's not going to be pretty when you do. It might sound a little cliché but talking about it with someone helps."

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah I know," he said, clearing his throat.

"And you know that I'm always here for you," I said, giving him a soft smile. "Even if you don't want to talk and you just need the company. I've got your back."

His shaky smile widened and he let out a genuine laugh. "I think I'm the safest person on Earth now," he joked, reaching up to pull my hand down. "But honestly, it's nice to know that it's not just me and Steve anymore. I'm really glad that you found us, Eleanor."

"Me too, James," I said, giving his hands a squeeze before letting him go. "Now, I going to go to the hotel and take a bath, attempt to look Human again," I explained. "While I'm doing that I want you to sleep. I know you didn't last night so don't try and argue."

He gave me an exasperated look. "How could you possibly know that?" he demanded.

"Because the dark circles under your eyes are starting to make you look like a raccoon," I told him, tapping the tip of his nose. "Are you avoiding sleep on purpose or is it unintentional?"

"Unintentional," he answered. "Sometimes I can nod off but it doesn't last long."

I pursed my lips and glanced over towards Howard. "I can ask him if he has something that'll help?" I offered. "He doesn't sleep well either. His brains too loud."

Buchanan looked past me towards the genius as well. "He said I'll be like you, right?"

I nodded my head to the side. "Eventually. At least healing wise. I don't know about the animal aspects. Why?"

He looked back to me. "You said that sedatives don't work one you," he reminded me.

"Shit," I sighed when I realized that he was right. Even if he did agree to the sedative it would only be a temporary fix. Sooner or later he would have a tolerance like me and it wouldn't work anymore. He'd be right back where he is now. "Okay, we'll figure something else out. Something that isn't medically induced."

Buck scoffed and shook his head. "Like what? Hypnotism?"

"Why not?" I asked. "The brain controls the body. If we can control the brain then-" I cut off when realization struck me. "Holy shit. I completely forgot."

His brow furrowed and he leaned a little closer to me. "Forgot what?" he asked.

I pulled in a sharp breath and looked down at him. "I might have an idea on how to help both of us."

He had the common sense to look concerned. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

I nodded my head to the side. "Probably not, but if it actually works we'll both be very happy."

Buck sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Beth, I don't know about this."

"You don't even know what it is," I argued.

"It's one of your ideas," he pointed out. "They're always dangerous."

"This isn't one of those plans," I assured him. "Besides, what I want to do isn't possible yet. If I work at it theoretically I could apply it to you by the time the sedative stops being affective, sooner if preliminary testing goes well."

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know, if I didn't trust you so much I'm pretty sure I'd be running for the hills right about now."

I raised an eyebrow. "It sounds that bad?" I questioned.

Buck let out a humorless laugh. "If it was anyone but you, Lizbeth," he said, shaking his head. "Really. Anyone but you."

I rocked back on my heels and swallowed hard. "That's a lot of faith you have in me," I mused.

He shrugged. "You've never given me a reason not to."

I let out the breath I had been holding and nodded. "Well, I promise to keep it that way."

He gave me a small smile. "I think-"

"Here."

Both of us jumped at the sudden appearance of Howard, the man holding out a bottle of pills between the two of us.

"They're Barbituates," he explained, shaking the bottle. "I've, uh, I've tweeked them a little to focus more on the insomnia part rather than the excess amount of energy."

Buck looked between Howard and the pills.

"I can show you my research if that'll make you feel better about taking them," he offered. "But they work. They'll give ya a solid eight hours of completely undisturbed and dreamless sleep."

A certain look of longing filled Bucky's eyes and he took the pills. "How much do I take? I don't think a regular dosage is going to work on me."

"Well, since we're going to be upping the dosage regularly I'd suggest starting at one tablet. A half of one of those knocks me off my ass."

Bucky nodded as he squinted down at the label. "Alright. How, uh, how often should I up the dose?"

"That'll be something we'll have to monitor along the way," I told him. "We'll keep track of your tolerance rate and adjust the dosage. We'll have you keep a record of your sleeping patterns, in the field and out of it. Don't worry, Howard and I will do most of the work."

"Yeah, Barnes," Howard said, clapping him on the shoulder, "don't worry that magnificent head of hair of yours."

A snort of laughter escaped him and he shook his head. "Thanks you two. Really."

"Think nothing of it," Howard dismissed. "We look out for our own around here."

* * *

Buchanan and I headed back to the hotel after that, both of us dead on our feet despite the fact that it was only three in the afternoon. We went back to his room seeing as the end game of the evening was him being unconscious. I waited in the armchair beside the bed as he washed and got ready for sleep, my Advanced Chemistry book open in my lap. He came out half an hour later with still damp hair and a change of clothes.

"You don't have to stay, you know," he stated before all but collapsing onto the bed.

I sighed and shut my book. "Actually I do," I corrected. "I need to make sure that you don't have a bad reaction to the medication or that it actually works," I told him, grabbing the pill bottle off the nightstand and taking out a tablet. "Promise me that you'll never take these with anything stronger than water, alright?"

"I promise," he said, rolling onto his back and sitting up. "Wait, can you get drunk?"

I actually had to think about that. "I-I don't think so," I said. "At least, I've never really tried that hard at it. Maybe that'll be something we can figure out together?"

He chuckled and scrubbed his hand over his face again. "You know, you don't have to try and fix all my problems."

"Sometimes it's easier when you solve problems with other people," I justified, grabbing the glass of water off the table and holding it and the pill out to him. "Friends usually. So this isn't that odd."

"Yeah, cause nothing about this says 'odd'," he said, tossing the pill in his mouth before draining half of the glass. "Thanks," he said, handing the glass back to me.

I set the bottle and glass back onto the nightstand. "Under the covers, Buck," I instructed, tugging at the corner of the bedspread.

He let out a groan but shifted enough to let me pull them down. "You're worse than Steve," he complained, bunching his legs up before slipping them under.

I scoffed. "Please, I know for a fact that you're the mother hen," I said, pulling the covers up as he settled against the pillows.

He let out a snort. "I'm sorry, have you met Steve?" he asked. "Someone had to make sure that he didn't get himself killed."

"And I appreciate that," I told him, dropping back down into the chair. "Now, would you like me to read to you? I have Advanced Chemistry."

"Well shit, if you have that then why did I take the pill?" he teased, rolling onto his side and cramming an arm under his pillow.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, I know you're just as big of a nerd as I am."

He beamed at that and pressed his face into the pillow. "Well, I've got a reputation to protect so don't let anyone else know that."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," I promised, leaning back in the chair and opening my book again. "You know, if this was the first world war I'd be giving you morphine," I mused.

Buck's brow furrowed. "Morphine? Isn't that for pain?"

"That's its more practical use," I allowed with a shrug. "Morphine is actually made from opium, which is why it has a euphoric side effect. For the longest time they were using opium for pain relief, but it was addictive and ended up causing more harm than it did help. Some pharmacist's assistant in the 1810's managed to isolate a compound from crude opium. After some testing he got it to a manageable dilution and created morphine. Didn't change the fact that it was just as addicting as its parent substance though."

"Yeah, yeah, they, uh, they called it Solder's Disease, right?" he asked.

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement. "It helped spur the Harrison Narcotics Act in 1914 to restrict the abuse of it. Though I've found that if someone wants something bad enough they'll find a way to get it. Hell, the drugs alone would have kept Alphie's outfit running for years, Congressional disapproval be damned."

"Could I get addicted? To the sleeping pills?"

I nodded. "Anyone can become addicted to anything. Though with your personality type and potential healing rate I don't think you're in any threat of becoming addicted."

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes drooping. "We have weird conversations," he decided. "I never had conversations like this till I met you."

I barked out a laugh. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Probably," he mumbled. "But I really don't give a rat's ass."

I smirked at his sudden drowsiness. "I'm glad. I enjoy our conversations."

"Me too."


	24. Captain America Part 24

An hour later I found myself on the floor of Steve's and I's room, my various books spread out in front of me, various papers and sketches littered about them. A record played softly while a thin haze of smoke hung in the air from the half pack of cigarettes I had burned through. I was hunched over, reading page after page in a suspended state of frustration. Mind control was a disappointingly unexplored field, leaving me virtually nowhere in my research of it. I was going to have to do all the work myself.

"That can't be right," I muttered, dragging the book closer to me and taking another drag. "It's contradicting itself. It-" I cut off, flipping back a couple of pages. "Come on, seriously? You're not being helpful at all," I accused, flipping the book closed and shoving it away. I sighed and slumped back against the foot of the bed, rubbing a hand across my eyes. "This is going to take forever."

The sound of the hotel door being unlocked pulled me from my discouragement. I looked over in time to watch said door open, the smoke swirling across the room from the action.

"Ellie?" Steve asked as he stepped in, pausing when he registered the smoke.

"Down here."

A smile replaced the confusion when he saw me. "I thought I smelled your brand," he said, stepping further in and closing the door. "You haven't smoked in a while. Everything okay?"

I took another drag and pushed myself to my feet. "I'm frustrated," I told him, gesturing to the mess on the floor as I stepped to the closest window. "I got a little carried away."

He nodded as he glanced over the papers, his brow furrowing as he tried to read some of it. "I can see that. Anything I can help with?"

I hummed and opened the window, the smoke streaming out into the fresh air. "I don't think anyone can help me now."

"Uh-oh, someone's getting dramatic," he teased.

I shot him a look but didn't lose my smile. "Keep being cute and I'll toss you out the window."

He laughed at that and stepped a little closer to my research. "So what is all this?" he asked. "Biology?"

"Some of it is," I answered, glaring down at the books. "Though to be completely honest, I don't really know what it is."

"Science rabbit hole, huh?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Sure, we'll call it that," I allowed. "So, did you take care of everything you needed to?"

He nodded as he cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah I got it all squared away."

I pursed my lips and watched him for a moment. "You'd tell me if something was wrong," I mused, not even bothering to question it.

Steve's smile dropped slightly. "Yes I would," he agreed.

I nodded and pulled in another drag, blowing the smoke out the window. "Sorry, I'm just…" I trailed off, clearing my throat. "I'm over analyzing things in a subconscious attempt to distract myself from the issues I don't want to deal with. Like that," I explained, pointing to the mess on the floor. "And the Schmidt family, and the Mutants, and the war, and all the other bullshit that's going on."

He watched me for a moment before the goofy grin widened. "I'm not a part of that bullshit, am I?"

I hummed and shook my head. "No, you're not a contributing factor to the cacophony of bullshit in my life," I assured him. "You're actually a rather competent treatment for it."

His eyebrows shot up and a startled laugh left him. "A competent treatment for bullshit?" he repeated.

I beamed at that and flicked the cigarette through the open window. "You know I love you."

"I do," he said.

I hummed in agreement and stepped around my mess on the floor. "And I love you so very, very much," I told him, grabbing hold of his hips and pulling him towards me. "Despite the fact that you've made me soft."

He cocked an eyebrow as he wound his arms around my shoulders, his fingers twisting into my hair. "I happen to like you soft," he mused, ducking is head to press a few kisses from my temple to my cheek. "Though I like you rough too."

I resisted the urge to laugh. "My rough side usually involves a lot of blood."

He let out an appreciative hum. "As long as it's not yours I don't mind it so much," he said, trailing his lips up towards my ear.

"Oh really?" I asked with an arched eyebrow. "Careful, solider, that's borderline perversion."

"Then I'm a pervert."

I let out a dramatic gasp and pulled back to look at him. "What are the wholesome American people going to think, Captain?" I asked.

"The wholesome American people can mind their own damn business."

My eyebrows shot up and an almost elated smile spread across my face. "That shouldn't make me as happy as it did," I stated.

"It's your Canadian showing through," he stated. "It's kind of adorable."

"Just kind of?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's completely and utterly adorable," he corrected.

"Damn right," I said, leaning up to give him a kiss before pulling away from him. "I'm going to take a bath; would you like to join me?"

A blush swept across his face and he cleared his throat. "I don't think we'd both fit," he teased.

"Not with that attitude we won't."

* * *

It was three in the morning and I was once again agonizing over the books and papers spread out across the floor. I had brought one of the table lamps down onto the floor with me, the shade angled towards my work so it wouldn't disturb Steve. I had doubled the amount of papers but I still didn't have a solid theory on how to do what I wanted to do. My head was pounding again and the itch to light up a cigarette was making me a little twitchy.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when a familiar taste burned in the back of my throat. There was a tinge of something hanging in the air that I couldn't quit place, but I recognized it. I looked back to the bed when Steve shifted and was hit with another wave of the burning. I resisted the urge to cough and pushed myself to my knees, shuffling across the carpet to the foot of the bed.

Steve let out a soft huff and shifted again, rolling over onto his other side. "Ellie."

The burning in my throat was getting uncomfortable and my eyes were starting to water.

"Ellie, no," Steve groaned, burying his face into his pillow. "Stay….stay with me."

My brow furrowed and I got up, moving around the bed to his side. "Steve, wake-" I cut off as I touched his arm and was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling. My knees gave out and I had to catch myself on the headboard, my hand still gripping Steve's arm. The burning in my throat turned into a guttural sob and fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I was shaking, I don't know when that started, but the tremor seemed to be enough to shake Steve out of whatever dream he was having.

He jerked awake and sat up in bed, his eyes darting around the room before they landed on me. "Jesus Christ, Ellie," he said, all but jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom.

I was confused about his reaction but I was still swimming in whatever had taken hold of me, so I couldn't ask him what was wrong. My grip on the headboard slipped and I dropped to the floor, my upper body leaning against the side of the bed.

Steve rushed back into the room and knelt beside me, one hand going up to grab the back of my head while the other pressed a towel to my face. "God, Ellie, what happened? Why are you bleeding?"

The shaking was subduing and the sobbing had all but stopped. My throat still burned but I suspected that would be the case for a while. I managed to nod my head and take hold of the towel from him. I sniffed as I pulled it back, surprised to find the large blotch of red that stained it. I licked my lips and instantly regretted it. "What were you dreaming about?" I asked, my voice rough.

He seemed surprised by the question but still answered. "I found you after Zola had….." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "you weren't healing."

I sniffed again and pressed the towel back to my nose when I felt it trickle again. "My brains hemorrhaging," I told him. "That's why my nose is bleeding."

"Do-do you need to go to the hospital?" he asked hesitantly.

I shook my head. "I'm healing," I assured him. "The bleeding will stop in a minute."

His jaw tensed and he shifted uncomfortably. "What happened?"

I looked over to my research and weighed the pros and cons of telling him. "You know that thing I can do with animals? The mind thing?"

He nodded.

"I think I just did that with you," I explained. "I was working and this feeling came over me. I heard you move and you started talking so I got up to wake you but when I touched your arm….Steve, this has never happened before. Not even with animals. I've always controlled it, focused it, but this…..this was subconscious."

Steve watched me for a moment before a determined look spread across his face. "Ellie, what are you working on?" he asked. "I know you said it's Biology but it's more than that, isn't it?"

Confusion twisted at my face. "What makes you ask that?"

He let out a sigh and looked over to the books and papers. "Ellie, I heard you and Jimmy. When we found Nadja, about getting into Klaus' head," he told me. "He didn't like the idea and neither did I but you didn't bring it up again. I even asked Howard about it but you hadn't told him. I thought you dropped it but…." He trailed off, motioning to the mess. "Obviously not."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shocked. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want to fight with you. Honey, you sounded so hopeful, and this is the first lead you've had at how to stop him. I didn't want to take that from you, even if I didn't agree with it," he admitted, that painfully sweet smile on his face.

I shifted around to press my back against the bed and lowered the towel. "I-" I cut off, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I had forgotten about it. Buck said something last night and it reminded me. So it's all his fault."

A small chuckled left him and some of the tension slipped away. "Right. Buck's fault," he agreed.

I flashed a smile before pressing the towel to my lips, wiping some of the blood off. "I probably scared the shit out of you, huh?" I joked. "Hovering over you, sobbing hysterically and dripping blood everywhere. No wonder you have bad dreams."

He shook his head with a smirk and took the towel from me, pushing himself back to his feet and stepping into the bathroom. "I'm just glad you're alright," he said, running the soiled towel under the faucet, wringing the blood out.

"Does that mean you're not going to ask me to stop?"

"I could ask," he started, stepping back into the room and taking his old spot again, "but I know what your answer will be."

I tilted my head and let him clean the dried blood away. "I'm not completely unreasonable," I mused.

"You're not," he agreed. "But like I said, I'm not taking this from you. Plus, I trust you to know what you're doing."

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me. "That is a horrible thing to put your trust in. I never know what I'm doing."

"Ellie, I'm giving you a window to lie to me and get away with it," he deadpanned, though he still sounded amused. "Consequence free, no questions asked."

"Oh," I realized. "I know exactly what I'm doing and you have nothing to worry about."

He paused and thought that through for a moment. "That is the worst false sense of security I have ever heard," he chastised.

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, they usually don't work if you know they're bullshit."

"It was worth a shot," he shrugged, finishing up his work and setting the washcloth onto the nightstand. "There, good as new."

"Thank you, mon chere," I cooed, leaning forward to peck his cheek before pulling myself up. "How the hell am I going to explain the blood to the maid?" I mused, seeing the several dots that ruined the white linen.

"Honey, we've been staying here for a while, I'm sure she's used to it."

I shot him a look and pulled the sheet off the bed, a small spark of satisfaction when I saw that it hadn't soaked through. "I might be able to fix this," I mused, wadding it up and grabbing the washcloth before walking into the bathroom. I cranked the faucet as far cold as it would go and waited, shaking out the sheet to one again find the blood. I held the section under the faucet and smiled as I watched the blood fade a soft pink. I gathered up the wet fabric and rubbed it together, fading the pink even more. A few more passes of the water and the spots were all but gone. "Wish we had bleach," I mused, wringing out the sheet and throwing it over the top of the door, fanning it out enough so it would dry. I pulled the stopper on the sink and filled the basin with the cold water, stopping it about half way up. I submerged the washcloth in it and watched the blood seep out.

"You know, my mom was good at getting blood out of things too," Steve mused from his spot in the doorway. "Not just because she was nurse."

I hummed. "She was good because if she wasn't you wouldn't have had any clothes."

He laughed but didn't argue.

I flicked the excess water off my hands before running them through my hair. "Christ, I look half dead," I muttered, leaning across the counter to get a closer look at myself in the mirror.

"You need to sleep more," he suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "Who can sleep when the task of solving mind control looms over their heads?"

"A healthy and sane person," he answered, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me out of the bathroom. "Come on, I want to wake up with you actually beside me."

A twinge of guilt came with that so I didn't argue with him. Besides, after the whole mind fuck with Steve's terrifyingly overwhelming emotions I wasn't all that keen on getting back to it.


	25. Captain America Part 25

It was moments like this that made everything worth it. The room had a gentle glow and a comfortable warmth to it that allowed the covers to be kicked to the bottom of the bed and the lights to remain off. Steve had put on one of my records, Edith Piaf's La Vie En Rose playing softly by the window. I sang along with her as Steve rested against the headboard, his sketchbook perched in his lap.

**Quand il me prend dans ses bras**

**Il me parle tout bas**

**Je vois la vie en rose**

**Il me dit des mots d'amour**

**Des mots de tous les jours**

**Et ça me fait quelque chose**

**Il est entré dans mon cœur**

**Une part de bonheur**

**Dont je connais la cause**

**C'est toi pour moi, moi pour toi dans la vie**

**Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie**

**Et dès que je t'aperçois**

**Alors je sens dans moi**

**Mon cœur qui bat**

"Are you serenading me?"

I let out a soft laugh and lolled my head over to smile up at him. "Soldier, if I was serenading you you would know it," I told him. "I'd be wearing something a little sexier than pajamas and I wouldn't be singing La Vie En Rose."

He let out a laugh of his own. "Honey, you look plenty sexy in those pajamas," he told me, a blush dusting across his face, "and I always get a little hot under the collar when you speak French."

I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face as I pushed myself up and twisted around to face him. "Juste un peu? (just a little bit?)" I asked, tilting my head as I leaned closer.

Steve shifted towards me, one hand coming up to grip my waist while the other put his sketchbook on the nightstand. "Peut-être un peu plus, (maybe a little more)," he answered, tugging me towards him.

I smirked and crawled up further till I could swing my leg over his hips. "Gardien de mon Coeur. (keeper of my heart)."

"Mon petit chou. (my little cabbage)," he murmured back, bringing his free hand up to cup my cheek.

A snort of laughter left me before I could stop it and I dropped my head to press my forehead to his. "You just had to say it, didn't you?"

He laughed with me. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself," he apologized. "Did I ruin the moment?"

"No," I chuckled, running my hands up his chest and to his neck, tilting his head back slightly. I made my way down to his lips, pressing kisses to the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and chin before ending on his lips. I ran my hands up his chest and past his neck to thread my fingers through his hair.

Steve let out a soft moan, his hand on my hip pulling me closer before moving up my back, his fingers slipping under my shirt.

A shiver ran down my spine when his calloused skin ran over mine, his thumbs skimming across my ribs. I made a mental note of how dangerously close he was to second base but put it out of my head, knowing that pointing it out would only make him fluster. I've learned that in situations like this it was better to let Steve rely on his instincts rather than his brain. When he relied on his brain he tended to overanalyze and overthink the whole thing. That's when Steve Rogers was reduced to a stuttering school boy.

Steve broke away with a soft gasp and made his way down my jaw, the hand that still cradled my cheek tilting my head back to give him better access. "Do you think," he started, pressing a sloppy kiss to my throat, "they'll last longer this time?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "Only one way to find out."

Something keen to a growl left him and he bit at my neck, nipping the spot he knew I liked.

My breath hitched and my grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer.

Knocking at the hotel door startled us apart, Buchanan's voice soon following.

" _C'mon, lovebirds, up and at 'em!"_

Steve let out a frustrated groan and dropped his head back against the headboard. "Dammit, Buck."

"He has the worst timing," I agreed, reluctantly climbing off of him and heading towards the door, making no effort whatsoever to appear more presentable. "This better be important, Buchanan," I stated once I had the door open.

He flashed me that horribly charming smile and pushed off the doorframe. "Aw come on, Beth, don't be sore," he teased.

I had intended to tease him back but stopped short when I saw how light the shadows under his eyes were. "Holy shit, Buck," I said, reaching up to grab hold of his face.

His smile only widened. "I couldn't believe it either," he said, stepping closer to I could get a better look. "I haven't felt this good in months."

"What's going on, Bucky?" Steve asked from his spot on the bed, the usual concern for his friend overriding his annoyance.

I ushered Buchanan into the room before closing the door behind him, wondering if he was really going to tell Steve or not.

"You know how I've been havin' trouble sleeping?" he asked.

Steve gave a small nod. "Yeah?"

"Well, Beth," he started, gesturing back to me, "and Howard gave me something to help with that. Best night's sleep I've had since before the war," he explained, giving his friend the same smile he had gave me.

Steve smiled back, albeit a little uneasy. "Really? What'd they give ya?" he asked, the question directed more towards me.

"They're just modified Barbituates. Howard makes them for himself," I explained, shuffling over to my mess of research that still littered the floor. "I've looked at his formula, it's stable."

"I don't care what it is as long as it keeps working," Buck said, spinning on his heel to look back to me. "What the hell is all that?" he demanded, his eyes taking in the books and papers.

I resisted the urge to groan. "The bane of my existence so we shall not speak of it," I told him. "Did you come up here to show us that your beauty sleep worked or was there something you wanted?"

He didn't seem to mind the change in subject. "Yeah, I wanna have breakfast with my pal and his girl," he answered. "Think you two can pull yourselves off each other long enough to manage that?"

It was Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "What do you think, Ellie? Can we managed that?"

I made a show of having to think about it. "I don't know, Captain, it sounds awfully daunting."

"It'll be our toughest mission yet."

"We might not make it back in one piece."

"Little lone alive."

"Are we willing to take that risk?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Not really. The fate of Buchanan's breakfast rests in our hands."

"Then there's only one thing to do."

"We have to go."

"It's our patriotic duty."

"The nation is counting on us."

"Oh my God," Bucky groaned, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. "Why the hell am I friends with you two? You're gonna give me a fucking aneurism."

I laughed and reached over to give him a hug. "We're sorry, Buck, we'll stop," I promised. "And we'll go to breakfast. Just give us a couple minutes, alright?"

"Alright," he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

* * *

Ten minutes later we were making our way across the lobby, Steve and I hand in hand while Buck ranted about 'finally getting some real food'. We had made it half way across the room when the woman at the front desk all but ran over to us.

"Agent Howlett!" she said, holding out a slip of paper. "I've been trying to get a hold of you. Colonel Phillips called. He left a message."

I let out a disappointed sigh and took the slip from her. "Thanks, Julie."

She nodded and returned to her post.

"What does he want?" Buck asked, leaning over to try and read the message.

I held it out of his line of sight with a coy smile before reading it over. "Dammit, he wants to see me and the brothers in his office ASAP," I explained.

"What? No. We're getting breakfast," Bucky protested, the devastation in his voice hard to miss.

I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, Buchanan, he just wants me. You two can still go."

"Are you sure, Ellie?" Steve asked.

I gave an affirming hum. "I'm afraid you must go this mission alone, soldier," I told him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss before heading back for the stairs. "I'll see you two later, alright?"

"Alright," he agreed. "Do you want us to get you something?"

I shook my head. "If the meeting runs long I'll just raid Howard's lab. He stashes food like a squirrel in there."

The boys chuckled as they watched me climb back up the stairs, taking them two at a time this go around. Luckily for me I didn't have to go nearly as far and was soon knocking on their now shared room, half expecting to be told to go away. Instead, the door flew open and a, shockingly, dressed Victor greeted me.

"Morning, Ella," he said, swooping down to kiss my cheek. "C'mon, Jimmy!" he called as he stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" Jimmy called back, rushing through the door as he pulled his jacket on. "Mornin', Lizzy," he said, kissing my forehead.

I looked between the two of them. "What the hell is going on?" I demanded.

They looked to me with confusion. "What?" they asked.

I gestured between them. "You're dressed and ready to go without any nagging or bribing," I pointed out. "What the hell is going on?"

Victor rolled his eyes and started down the hall.

"Chester called," Jimmy explained, following after Vic.

I thought on that for a moment before starting after them, still confused. "So? He's called you guys before and you've never snapped to this quick. What did he say?"

"You didn't get breakfast, did you?" Vic asked, the smugness in his voice deliberate.

That didn't help my mood. "No, no I did not," I ground out. "I was on my way to breakfast when I got Chester's message. So why don't you tell me what's so fucking important about this before I eat one of you."

Jimmy let out a snort and reached back to wrap his arm around shoulders. "Keep your wig on, Lizzy," he teased, jostling me slightly. "You'll find out soon enough."

I resisted the urge to push him away. "It's too goddamn early for surprises, James."

"It's practically noon, Eleanor."

I scoffed. "You know that means nothing to me."

Vic barked out a laugh. "It's not our fault you keep whore hours."

I probably should have been more offended but the fact that he was right kept me quiet.

* * *

"A solo mission?" I demanded, looking between the three men like they'd grown an extra head. "You've gotta be shitting me."

Chester gave me an unamused look. "I am not shitting you."

I frowned and glared over at my brothers. "That's what you two were so excited about? A fucking solo mission?"

Victor gave me an easy smirk. "Come on, Ella, we haven't done one of these in a while."

"Yeah, Lizzy, come on. It'll be fun."

I scoffed and slumped further back into my chair, chastising myself for not just going with Steve and Buck to breakfast. "Where are you sending us?"

"Home."

"Canada?" I asked, probably sounding a little more hopeful than I should have.

Chester gave me another look. "You forget you're an American citizen often?"

"Only when it's convenient," I quipped back.

He huffed and pushed a folder across his desk towards me. "Just read the damn file, Howlett. I think you'll have a different opinion after you do."

I hesitated for a moment before picked up the file. I flipped it open and thumbed through the paper idly, my brow furrowing the further I got. "This isn't Hydra."

"Nope, it's just regular old Nazis'. Well, sleeper agents but still Nazis," he explained. "I know you haven't dealt with them in a while but I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Sarcasm shouldn't be insulting."

"Sarcasm can be whatever the hell I want it to be."

I sighed and tossed the folder back onto his desk. "So we capture these sleeper agents and take them where?"

"You'll be handing them over to the FBI."

A snort of laughter left all three of us.

Chester raised an eyebrow. "You got a problem with that?"

"Sorry, sir, but the FBI doesn't really like us," Jimmy explained, shooting a pointed look towards Victor. "We've had a few altercations with them."

Chester took that in for a moment before giving a small shrug. "Well, they asked for you three so I think they've gotten over their issues," he stated. "And if they're not then I'm sure you can handle yourselves."

"Do you think if they arrest us we'll get our one phone call?" I asked, more joking than serious.

"Probably not," he deadpanned.

"Swell."

"When we leavin'?" Vic asked, already getting up from his chair.

Chester glanced over at the clock. "You've got 10 minutes. You're going back to your old aliases before the war so don't bother taking anything from here. We don't need you blowing your cover over a jacket."

I scoffed and pulled my bomber jacket closer to me. "I've had this since the first world war, thank you very much!" I defended.

"Yeah, but that Howling Commando patch is new," he argued, pointing to the wing on my left shoulder. "They're gonna spot you a mile away, Howlett. Pull your head out of your ass and leave the damn jacket here."

I wasn't happy but I didn't argue. "I'm guessing I won't get to say goodbye to Steve and the fellas?"

"You're guessing correct."

"Fine, I'll leave it with Howard."

"Good. Now get out of my office."

*line break*

* * *

I hated leaving like this. The usual words of reassurance and the obligatory promise of coming back alive gnawed at the back of my head as I made my way towards the waiting plane. I knew that I was going to be fine and that I was coming back alive but it would have been a little more grounding to have told Steve that.

"You're not going to mope the whole time, are you?!" Jimmy yelled over the engine roar.

I flipped him off as an answer and climbed into the cargo bay, making my way to the cockpit. I dropped down into the copilot seat and put on the other pair of headphones.  _"Mornin', Howard,"_  I greeted.

He smiled widely at me.  _"Good morning, El. I've got something for you."_

I watched with mild interest as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out something wrapped in wax paper. The smell reached me before he had the chance to hand it to me, my hand reaching out to snatch the sandwich from him.  _"Grilled ham and cheese?"_ I asked as I unwrapped it.

Howard laughed and nodded.  _"Yep. When I heard when and where we were going I knew you wouldn't get a chance to eat. Thought I'd make it easier on all of us and feed you."_

The excitement of the food overshadowed the dig at my personality.  _"Thank you, Howie, really."_

" _I think that's the first time you've genuinely thanked me,"_ he marveled.  _"We outa document this. Get a plaque made or something."_

" _You can have a goddamn statue erected for all I care, just tell me where you got this,"_ I bargained, restraining myself from shoving half of it into my mouth.

" _I made it."_

" _Bullshit."_

" _One of these days you're gonna believe that,"_ he grumbled.  _"You know that brunette I had a date with?"_

" _When you stabbed yourself?"_

" _Yes,"_ he begrudgingly agreed.  _"When I stabbed myself."_

I nodded as I chewed.  _"Well, either there's something wrong with her or she really likes you."_

Howard actually looked a little affronted.  _"There's nothing wrong with her!"_

That actually got a smile on my face.  _"So she's smitten with you, huh?"_

He let out a heavy sigh and slumped down slightly.  _"I hope so cause I'm gonna lose my fucking mind if she leaves me."_

" _You're this fucking stuck on her and you haven't even told me her name,"_ I accused, reaching over to smack his shoulder.  _"I haven't even met her yet!"_

He slapped my hand away with a pointed look.  _"Her name is Maria and there's a reason why you haven't met her."_

" _And that reason would be?"_

" _Do you honestly not remember what you did the last time I introduced you to one of my girls?"_ he demanded, twisting full on around to look at me.

I had to think about it for a moment before I was full on giggling.

" _It's not funny, El! She called the cops on me! They did an investigation!"_

" _Jesus Christ,"_ I gasped, struggling to keep myself from being hysterical.  _"You didn't tell me that part. Howie, all I did was ask her if she was excited to be a sister wife, it's not my fault that she flipped her wig."_

" _It completely is your fault! She wouldn't of flipped her wig if you hadn't of asked her that!"_

" _Well I'm sorry! When she said she was from Utah I couldn't help myself. You would have done the same thing, don't even try to deny that. There's a reason we're friends and it's not because of your good looks."_

His glare lessened slightly as he arched an eyebrow.  _"So you're admitting we're friends now, huh?"_

I shook my head as I shoved the last of the sandwich into my mouth.  _"I'm tired of fighting you. You wore me down."_

He bounced both his eyebrows now.  _"I knew I would eventually!"_

" _Don't make me regret it."_

" _You already do."_

_"Yeah, probably,"_ I agreed, crumbling the wax paper.  _"So if I don't get to meet her the least you could do is tell me about her. What's she like? What are her hobbies and aspirations?"_

_"Swear you own't use this against me later on down the line?"_

_"Scouts-"_

_"No, swear on something that actually means something. I'm serious, El,"_ he cut in, pointing at me with as much threat as he could.

I rolled my eyes and held my hands up in surrender.  _"I swear on Steve's shoulder to wait ratio that I will not use any of the information you are about to divulge against you at any point in time,"_ I recited, making a show of how I wasn't crossing my fingers.  _"Happy?"_

He looked downright giddy.  _"_ _Ecstatic. Alright, she's a nurse right now but back home she runs her family's restaurant,"_ he started.

I smiled as I listened to Howard ramble on about the woman who had caught his entire attention span. Normally, when Howard became obsessed with something he was distracted and hardly managed to keep himself functioning at a Human level. But now, watching him talk about Maria, we got the plane moving and into the air without so much of a stutter.

If you had told me four years ago that I would be where I am now I don't really know what I would have done, but I certainly wouldn't have believed you.

Everything was changing and for once I wasn't completely hating it.


	26. Captain America Part 26

The moment I walked through my front door it all felt wrong. It wasn't the apartment, no that was just as I left it, but there was a certain air of absence that filled the space. It wasn't till I opened the balcony doors did I realize what it was.

The Great Gatsby had been a staple for me during the early 30's when I found myself nostalgic for the Age of Jazz. I had known many people like Daisy and Tom, and I even had the pleasure of meeting a few like Nick, but people with the complexity of Jay always alluded me. I knew plenty of bootleggers and men who tried to make up for their lack of family prowess with parties, but that utterly Human hopefulness and faith in something uncertain didn't exist. I looked for it, trust me, but in that day and age people didn't seem all that interested in having something that deep inside them.

I should have seen it coming. With my tendency to lean towards the dramatic I should have known that going anywhere 'home' without Steve would lead to problems. I had spent hours, probably days, picturing what our lives would be like after the war. Waking up in the morning to find him out on the balcony sketching, having breakfast together while reading the paper, dancing in the living room, cooking dinner, sharing a room. I had built up this perfect life in my head without a second thought, not once considering the possibility that it wouldn't happen. I had become Jay fucking Gatsby in the most dramatically pathetic way.

But Steve was mine. He wasn't married to some Old Money idiot in a big house by a lake, so why the hell did I feel like I had lost him? How wrapped up in the fantasy was I that I couldn't even be in the apartment without him?

"You need to get a fucking grip," I told myself.

* * *

Mini's Bar was a once speakeasy now legit business owned by a woman I wouldn't want to look sideways at. She was an amazon in silk and pearls, the red on her lips impossibly dark and never smudged. I had met her through a third party, a group of yuppies who thought she was a sight and wanted me in on the big joke. I hadn't particularly cared for that and told her as much after our handshake. Since then we've had a mutual respect for one another, me getting the cops off her back and her letting me sing whenever the mood hit me.

When I read that one the sleeper agents had been spotted in the bar I had been devastated. Mini had never been shy about her religion, even putting a menorah up in one of the bar windows during Hanukkah. Thankfully her family had relocated years before the war was even a whisper, but that was a small mercy. The last thing she needed was a motherfucking Nazi drinking her booze and touching her things.

Which is why I put effort into the game tonight. I went to the salon and let them work me over, enduring nearly two hours of chastising over lack of hair and skin maintenance, bought a new pair of heels, and dug The Red Dress out of storage.

By the time we left for Mini's I looked like the Roaring Twenties never crashed and burned.

"Well if it isn't, Eleanor Creed."

How Mini managed to spot me in the crowd of people was beyond me but I was glad she did. "Mini Solomons, you are a sight for sore eyes," I told her, reaching out to pull her into a hug. "How have you been, beautiful?"

She laughed softly. "I think that's a question best left unknown," she stated, pulling back to pet at my hair. "Would you look at you. I haven't seen you this put together in five years."

I rolled my eyes and swatted her hand away. "You haven't seen me in five years."

"That doesn't make it a false statement," she defended with a wink. "What brought you back?"

The urge to tell her everything rose but I kept it down. "There was something I needed to take care of and I decided to stick around for a while," I explained offhandedly.

"So you're leaving us again?"

"Everyone leaves eventually."

She barked out a laugh and smacked my shoulder. "I forgot how dry your humor is. Well, however long you're in town you're welcome here."

"Thank you, Mini," I said, pressing up onto my toes and kissing her cheek, a snort of laughter leaving me when I saw the imprint of my lipstick. "Sorry."

She waved me off with a smile. "It'll make the boys jealous. Break a leg, bubbala," she cooed before disappearing into the crowd.

I smiled to myself and turned towards the stage, winding my way through the people to the band. "Evenin', fellas!" I called.

"Good evening, Eleanor!" Thompson, the saxophone player, called back. "I almost didn't believe it when Mini handed me your set list."

"I just couldn't stay away I guess. You fellas ready?"

He shook his head with a smirk. "Dollface, I don't think anyone's ever ready for you."

I let out a snort and flipped him off. "Screw you, Thomps. Play my goddamn music."

Thompson laughed as he signaled to the others to start the first song.

* * *

The world doesn't mean anything to you unless you decide it does. Objects in store windows don't particularly matter till you own it, till you make it yours. The same can be said for places and people. Human lives function around emotional responses and connections, without those someone is less likely to give a shit about something. Take Flushing Meadows-Corona Park for example. Before the war I just thought that it was pretty and worth a visit whenever I was in Queens, but after the World's Fair it became something special. Between Howard's exposition and meeting Steve it held a lot of fond memories.

Which is why I found myself there after Mini's. I hadn't meant to go there, in fact I was thinking of going to Central Park, but obviously my subconscious had a different idea. It was dimly lit with the few street lamps it had placed around the main courtyard and path, and if I was any normal woman I would have been scared. I had taken my shoes off sometime during the walk, one hand hooked around the heels while my other held the bottom of my dress away from the ground. I had been humming to myself absently, only realizing that it was Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G Minor when I took time to think on it. Memories of my parents parties flooded my head, the full orchestras that sat in the front of the room while social elite danced around in their finery. Jimmy and I were never allowed to attend the entirety of the event, always being sent off to bed after dinner but that never stopped us from watching on the stairs. We got lessons eventually, both of us learning together then teaching Victor whenever we got the chance. Everything went to hell before we ever had the chance to attend a dance but I still remembered the steps.

I stopped in the center of the courtyard, a few feet from where the recruitment tent had been and dropped my shoes off to the side. I readjusted my hold on the skirt, raised my other arm to shoulder level and began humming Gertrude's Dream Waltz. I closed my eyes, counted off, and began the steps.

"Want a partner?"

I spun around a the familiar voice and was surprised to find Steve right behind me. He was standing right there in full uniform, that heartbreaking smile stretched across his face as he watched me. I pushed my shock down and held my arms up to him. "I would love one," I told him. "This is a little different than our usual."

He chuckled and stepped into my arms. "Honey, you lead more often than not, this isn't all that different from our usual," he quipped.

I beamed up at him as I placed his hand on my waist and mine on his shoulder, holding our other hands out to the side. "Some of these dances have fifty steps in them."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Well, maybe you should go easy on me this time around."

"I promise not to hurt you," I teased. "On three, okay? One…two….three.."

With Gertrude's Dream Waltz once again being hummed I moved us through the simpler steps of the old dance.

What would it have been like if Steve and I had met then? Would we have interacted? Become friends? Loved each other? With how he was before the serum I doubt my father would have agreed to a relationship, but that wouldn't have stopped us if we wanted to be together. Though I had a feeling that Steve would have honored my father's wishes. I probably would have had to spirit us away at some point to get what I wanted. Funny how it always comes down to me running.

"Are you okay in there?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked back up at him. "Sorry. I was just…" I trailed off, deciding not to tell him. "Just thinking."

"You got that look in your eye," he accused with a smirk.

I arched an eyebrow. "What look?"

"The look you get when you're thinking about the past," he answered, pulling me closer to him so he could lean down. "How far back did you go?"

I nearly melted at the fact that he knew that. "To the beginning."

"That's pretty far," he mused. "Good thoughts?"

"Mhmm," I hummed, pulling him closer to me so I give him a kiss. "Very good thoughts."

He smirked and hunched forward a little, nuzzling my hair as he pulled in several deep breathes.

I let myself enjoy for the moment for a little longer before breaking it. "Steve, how did you know where I was?"

"Because if I was home without you I would come here too," he answered, pressing a kiss into my hair before pulling back. "This is going to sound ridiculous but I missed you."

I shook my head with a smirk. "That's not ridiculous," I assured him. "I missed you too."

"Yeah?"

"I missed you enough to not even ask you why you're here," I stated, though honestly the curiosity was killing me.

His smile dipped slightly and an almost nervous look crossed his face.

"Steve, what your face just did makes me think there's something I need to worry about," I told him, taking a step back with a pointed look. "Is there something I need to worry about?"

"What? No, honey, no," he said, shaking his head with a small laugh. "No, there's nothing to worry about. At least, not for you. I'm worrying but I'm pretty sure I'm just overreacting."

My eyebrows shot up. "That doesn't really make me feel any better."

He let out a frustrated sigh and took several steps back, his hand coming up to rub across his face. "You know, I had the whole thing planned out. With a speech and the whole…." He trailed off, dropping his arm, "but then I saw you in that dress and the dance….I've forgotten all of it. Buck's gonna kill me."

I couldn't help the laugh that left me. "Bucky? You practiced with him again?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I had to. I wanted it to be perfect but-" he cut off with a scoff.

I gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it was a wonderful speech," I soothed, walking back to him. "But we're not really planning people, are we? We just dive head first into things and make it up as we go along. So, really, you expecting to remember a speech was a bit foolish."

He watched me for a moment before letting out a laugh and nodding. "It was, wasn't it?" he asked. "Yeah, okay, diving in head first. No speech. You ready?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Can one be ready for the unknown?"

He gave me an unamused look. "Eleanor."

"Alright, alright, go on. Take the leap," I encouraged.

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Eleanor Lizbeth Howlett, will you marry me?"


	27. Captain America Part 27

(Real time)

( _Flashback)_

* * *

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this beautiful day to witness the union of Eleanor Howlett and Steven Rogers in holy matrimony. This is a day of great celebration and reverence, on which we come together before God to recognize and commemorate the sacred love and dedication shared between these two people. It is wonderful to have family and friends here to join us today. The bride and groom would like to thank their guests for being here, and would like you to know that each of you were invited here on this day because you have played an integral part in their intertwining lives. In the time that Eleanor and Steven have spent together, they've built the sturdy foundation for a lifelong relationship. After a great deal of thoughtful consideration, they have decided to bind themselves to one another for the rest of their lives. May you all remember and cherish this sacred ceremony, for on this day, with love, we will forever bind Eleanor and Steven tighter."

* * *

_"What?" I found myself asking like an idiot._

_He let out a frustrated sigh. "God, I didn't do it right, did I?" he asked, shaking his head as he lowered himself to one knee. "My ma's rolling over in her grave," he muttered, reaching into his pocket to pull out a velvet box. He cleared his throat, popped open the box and held it up. "Eleanor Lizbeth Howlett, will you marry me?"_

_I took a small step forward and peered down at the silver Claddagh ring nestled in the velvet. "Steve…."_

_"My parents had Claddaghs," he explained. "Bucky kept telling me to get you something with a diamond but that felt impersonal. I wanted something with meaning," he said, his smile twitching slightly. "If-if you do want a diamond then I'll get you one but I'd still like you to have this."_

_I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and shook my head. "No, no, Steve, I don't want a diamond," I told him, closing the space between us to cup his face. "The Claddaghs perfect."_

_He beamed up at me. "So you'll marry me?"_

_"Mon Cher, that was never a question," I assured him, rubbing my thumbs across his cheeks, "but I thought you were going to wait till after the war?"_

_He nodded his head to the side. "I was, but I'm tired of letting it control our lives," he stated. "War or not, Ellie, I want to be your husband."_

_I let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Only if I get to be your wife."_

_"Is that a yes?"_

_I nodded frantically. "Yes."_

_He had me in his arms in an instant, infectious laughter leaving him as he spun us around, much like he had when I said I'd be his girl._

_I giggled as I clutched at him, marveled at how excited he was over something as simple as a 'yes'._

* * *

"If there is anyone in attendance who has cause to believe that this couple should not be joined in marriage, you may speak now or forever hold your peace."

* * *

_He spun us to a stop and set me back on my feet, his arms still wound tight around me. "Are you sure you don't want a diamond?"_

_I shook my head. "I'm sure," I answered, letting him go so he could step back._

_Steve pulled the ring from the box. "Do you know what Claddaghs mean?" he asked._

_I shook my head as I offered him my hand. "What do they mean?"_

_"Well," he started, "the heart means love, the hands mean friendship, and the crown means loyalty," he explained as he slid it up my finger. "When you're engaged you wear it with the heart pointing towards your fingertips, and when you're married you wear it with the heart pointed towards your wrist; towards your heart."_

_"That's beautiful," I said, threading our fingers together and moving back to him. "You have one too, right?"_

_"Not till the wedding."_

_I frowned at that. "Why are woman the only ones who get an engagement ring?" I asked. "It doesn't really seem all that fair. It kind of feels like I'm being bribed."_

_He barked out a laugh. "Am I? Am I bribing you?"_

_"You certainly don't have to," I stated, staring down at our hands, the absence of a ring on his finger bothering me. "You physically have one though, right? A Claddagh?"_

_Steve nodded. "Yeah, Buck's holding onto it for me."_

_My frown deepened. "Damn."_

_"What?" he asked, tugging my hand slightly in curiosity._

* * *

"Marriage is a sacred ceremony. Today we observe the union of these two people with the respect the occasion warrants. What we honor with reverence, however, we also celebrate with great joy! For married life- a shared life- is a tremendous blessing. Now, as Eleanor and Steven embark on this journey together, they will be able to nurture a love that makes each of them better versions of themselves. Marriage is, indeed, the perfect garden from which to sow and harvest personal growth. Eleanor and Steven, learn to work together, to laugh together, and to love together. Don't get caught up in worldly things that will draw you apart. Instead, focus on your shared devotion and turn inward. As your relationship strengthens you will find that you come to share a remarkable love; a love that is both abundantly given and freely accepted. The joy you'll find as you pursue your shared lives with fuel you to face head-on the challenges you'll encounter on this Earth. On your journeys together, keep your spouse in the space of highest priority in your heart. The love you share must be guarded and cherished, it is your most valuable treasure."

* * *

_I let out a soft sigh and looked back up to him. "Well, I was going to suggest that we get married tonight so that you can have yours but…." I trailed off with a shrug. "We'll have to wait."_

_Steve was looking at me like I had grown three heads. "You would-" he cut off to clear his throat, "you would get married tonight?"_

_I nodded my head to the side with a smirk. "If we're not waiting till after the war anymore then why not?" I suggested. "I don't want anything big or flashy, and my entire family is in the Commandos so there isn't much issue with that. Honestly, as long as someone pronounces us husband and wife I don't really care how it happens."_

_A goofy look was spread across his face. "You're serious."_

_"I am," I agreed._

_"Jesus Christ," he muttered with a chuckle, an amused look on his face._

_"What? Do you want a big wedding?" I asked, honestly surprised by that. Sure, Steve was prone towards being dramatic but it was usually spontaneous outbursts that he would later be embarrassed by, but something like a big wedding wasn't something she thought he'd be into._

_"No, no, it's not that," he assured me, leaning forward to kiss my forehead before continuing to chuckle. "Both Jimmy and Vic said that you wouldn't want to wait. They told me that I should have the whole wedding set up before I even ask you."_

_My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "They really said that?"_

_"They did."_

_"Huh," I mused, pondering on how my brothers knew me better than I did. "Did you?"_

* * *

"Under the eyes of God, I solemnly consecrate these matrimonial proceedings and the sacred covenant you shall both enter into on this day. Marriage is an ancient rite. As you enter into this union, you are choosing to take part in a historical human establishment and are pledging your commitment before the witnesses present here today to enter into that tradition with honor."

* * *

_"Not exactly. Honestly, Ellie, I wasn't even sure you'd say yes," he admitted, an apologetic smile on his face. "But a call to your brothers will have the whole thing ready to go in two days."_

_My eyebrows shot up and I held onto him a little tighter. "You're serious?"_

_He nodded. "I am. Though, if you really want to do it tonight we can," he offered, honestly looking like it wouldn't have bothered him at all._

_I found myself shaking my head. "No, no, I want our family there," I assured him. "They've been with us since the beginning, the least we can do is invite them to the wedding."_

_Steve nodded his head to the side. "The least we can do," he agreed with a chuckle. "Besides, if Buck doesn't get to be my best man I'm pretty sure he'd kill me."_

_I let out a laugh before a realization hit me. "Howard's going to be my Maid of Honor."_

_"Somehow I think he'll be okay with that," he said with a laugh of his own._

_"I think so too," I mused. "Maybe I should tell him to bring Maria."_

_" I thought you weren't allowed to meet her?"_

_I rolled my eyes. "It's our wedding, he can't say no to me."_

_His smile widened and he pulled me closer to him, leaning down to press his forehead against mine. "Our wedding."_

_The softness in his voice caught me and I felt my chest tighten. "Our wedding."_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

* * *

"Eleanor and Steven please face one another and join hands. Under the eyes of God, Eleanor, do you take Steven to be your lawfully wedded husband? By making this commintment, you are joining in the sacred covenant of marriage. Do you promise to honor him in love, to be sensitive to his needs, to comfort him in difficulty, and to put your full and complete trust in him, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Under the eyes of God, Steven, do you take Eleanor to be your lawfully wedded wife? By making this commitment, you are joining in the covenant of marriage. Do you promise to honor her in love, to be sensitive to her needs, to comfort her in difficulty, and to put your full and complete trust in her, so long as you shall live?"

"I do."

* * *

_Howard let out a sound of anguish as he looked over my dress uniform. "You're seriously not going to wear a dress?"_

_I let out a frustrated sigh and looked at him in the vanity mirror. "Yes, Howard, seriously."_

_He pulled a face of disgust. "Why?"_

_"If the fellas have to wear theirs, why shouldn't I?" I challenged. "Besides, it'd be a little hypocritical of me to wear white, don't you think? I haven't been a virgin since the late 1800's."_

_Howard let out a snort of laughter. "Do you really think that every woman who's worn a white dress has been a virgin? Please. The point is the look."_

_I rolled my eyes. "The point, Howard, is that Steve and I are getting married," I reminded him. "Why is this such a big deal to you anyways? I know you like putting me in dresses but this is a little much, don't you think?"_

_"It's a big deal because I got the perfect dress for you."_

_Shock ran through me and I twisted around on the stool to stare at him. "You did?" I asked, my voice a little softer than I had liked. "When did you….?"_

_He seemed more than pleased with my reaction. "Remember when I took Maria to Paris for breakfast?"_

_"No, but it doesn't surprise me."_

_He pulled another face. "Well I did," he said, waving it off. "Anyway, we walked past this bridal shop and I saw the dress and-" he cut off with a shrug. "Maria almost had a heart attack when I dragged her in but after I explained everything she was gung-ho for it. She even helped me pick out the veil."_

_That was surprisingly heartwarming. "She did?"_

_"Yep."_

_I shifted slightly, suddenly second guessing my dress uniform decision. "Do you- do you have it?"_

_His face lit up. "You bet your ass I do. Hang on," he told me before all but running out of the room._

* * *

"To commemorate this union, you may now exchange rings. The circle formed by each ring symbolizes your eternal love and commitment to one another. Let these rings remind you always of that love, and of the promises you have made here on this day. Will each of you please repeat after me as you place the ring on your loved ones hand?"

"I, Eleanor, give you Steven this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed."

"I, Steve, give you Eleanor this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed."

* * *

_I watched anxiously as Howard brought the garment bag into the room. "How long have you had it?" I asked, slipping off the stool and stepping towards him._

_"A month," he answered, hooking the hanger onto bathroom doorframe._

_"A month?!"_

_He snickered as he began unzipping it. "How long do you think Steve's been planning on asking you?"_

_I didn't press it when I realized that I had never actually asked Steve. "I guess he's better at being sneaky than I thought he was," I muttered._

_"I was surprised too honestly," he said, fussing with the cover for a moment before turning back to me. "Okay, are you ready?"_

_I pulled in a steadying breath and nodded. "Yes."_

* * *

"By the power vested in me, by the church and by the state of New York, I pronounce you, Eleanor and Steven as wife and husband, lawfully wedded before God."

* * *

_"Are you crying?" Howard asked with pure astonishment._

_"Shut up!" I gasped out as I struggled to wipe the tears away, my breath hitching every time I tried to control it._

_He stepped away from the dress to pull me into a hug. "You like it that much?" he asked, rocking us back and forth._

_I sniffed as I wound my arms around him. "It's beautiful, Howie," I praised, my voice breaking. "I can't believe you got it for me."_

_"Only the best for my El," he mused, pressing a kiss to my head. "So you'll wear it?"_

_"Of course I will," I stated, staring at it over his shoulder. "I'm not gonna take it off."_

_He chuckled and kissed my head once more before pulling away. "I even got you kitten heels so you don't trip and break your face."_

_A watery laugh left me and I wiped at my face again. "Thanks, Howard."_

_He shot me a wink. "Come on, let's get you put together."_

* * *

"Steven, you may now kiss the bride, forever sealing your union."

* * *

_"Holy shit," I said, all but pressing my face to the window as the car pulled up in front of a beautifully stained glassed building. "How in the hell did you get us a church?" I demanded, twisting around to look at the grinning man._

_"Do you forget who I am?"_

_I pulled a face. "No, but don't you have to go to marriage classes in order to have your wedding in a church?" I asked, pulling up the vague knowledge I had of the catholic religion._

_He nodded his head to the side. "There are, but a case of whiskey will get you out of just about anything."_

_"You bribed a priest with a case of whiskey?"_

_He held his hands up in defense. "I offered to pay for a new roof or some bibles but he very heavily implied that I get him whiskey so that's what I got him!"_

_A snort of laughter left me. "Guess he's our kind of people," I mused, looking back to the church, my smile widening when I spotted Victor and Jimmy making their way down the front steps. "Show time, Howie, you ready?" I asked, the jittery feeling returning to the pit of my stomach._

_"As ready as I'll ever be. How about you?" he asked._

_I pulled in a deep breath and nodded. "It's Steve," I said before popping open the door and stepping out of the car._

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Steven and Eleanor Rogers!"


	28. Captain America Part 28

Our wedding party caused quite the ruckus at the Plaza's Persian Room. With the fellas in their dress uniforms, Howard in his tux, and Maria and me in our dresses we all but took over the scene. All but five minutes into our arrival each of the fellas had a woman on their arm and a stiff drink in their hand. Maria and I, at some point during the night, had stationed ourselves on top of the bar, her legs tucked under her while I had mine folded over the edge, the train of dress brushing the floor every time I swayed. The fellas, seeing that the two of us weren't going to be moved, stuck by our sides the whole night.

When the hour grew late and the crowd began to thin Steve told me that he had another surprise for me. After saying goodbye to Maria and Howard, Steve scooped me up off the counter and carted me off, ignoring my protests for him to put me down. Much to my embarrassment he kept hold of me till we reached the room, the 'Honeymoon' plaque on the door telling me everything I needed to know.

* * *

I woke the next morning with a pained groan, the sunlight shining right onto my face due to us neglecting to close the curtains. I shrunk down into the covers and twisted myself around to bury my face into Steve's back. I pressed my forehead between his shoulder blades and wormed my arms around his waist, pulling him towards me.

Steve shifted at my disturbance but didn't wake, a soft sigh leaving him.

My heart swelled at the sound and I held onto him a little tighter. I kissed up the length of his spine I could reach till I got to his shoulders.

"You know, I was havin' this swell dream," Steve's sleep thick voice sounded. "There was this dame in a beautiful white dress. She kept callin' me her husband but she musta been mistaken cause a chump like me couldn't get a girl like that."

I smirked and sank my teeth into the meaty part of his shoulders.

"Ow, Ellie!" he exclaimed with a laugh, attempting to squirm away from me.

"Chump or champ, which are ya?" I teased before chomping down again.

He squirmed harder. "Champ! I'mma champ!"

I smiled in triumphant and pushed my weight forward, effectively rolling him over with me laying on top of him. "Yeah, you are," I agreed. "Good morning, husband."

He let out a strained chuckle. "Good morning, wife," he responded before twisting his head around to look up at me. "You look beautiful."

I let out a snort of laughter. "Please, I know what I look like after a good night's sleep," I denied.

His visible eyebrows shot up. "Like a disgruntled mountain lion?"

I scoffed and pinched the closest available skin. "Ass."

Steve beamed up at me. "You love me."

"Damn right I do," I agreed, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "D'you want some breakfast?"

He went to answer but stopped when a growl erupted from his stomach.

I couldn't help but giggle as I rolled off him and reached for the phone. "On a scale of small flightless bird to horse, how hungry are you?"

He huffed out a laugh and pushed himself up. "Would you think less of me if I said I'm hungry enough to eat two horses?" he asked, reaching down over the side of the bed to grab his boxers.

I arched an eyebrow. "After the show you put on for me last night? Soldier, I think a hell of a lot more of you," I told him.

He gave me a rather nice view of his ass as he pulled on his underwear, a furious blush on his face when he looked back at me. "Thanks, honey," he said before heading towards the bathroom.

I blew him a kiss and turned back to the phone. Punching in the Room Service number I shouldn't have known by heart, I waited for the attendant to answer.

" _Good morning, Mr. or Mrs. Rogers, how may I help you today?"_ a far too perky voice answered.

"Good morning," I greeted back, not at all surprised that they knew our names, "I don't suppose it's too late to order breakfast is it?"

" _It's never too late for the honeymoon suite,"_ he chuckled.  _"What would you like?"_

"Do you still do those All American Breakfasts?"

" _Yes, we do."_

"Great. This is going to sound absolutely absurd but can we get five of those?"

He was quiet for a moment.  _"We were told of Mr. Rogers' dietary requirements, it is not so absurd,"_ he said.  _"Is there anything else you'd like?"_

I hummed in consideration. "No, I think we'll be okay for now, but I'm sure we'll be bugging you again later."

" _It's my pleasure, Mrs. Rogers. We'll have that up to you two shortly."_

"Thank you," I sing songed before dropping the receiver back onto the cradle. "I'm going to have to get used to that."

"Get used to what?"

I sighed and got out of bed, snatching up my slip and underwear as I went. "Being called Mrs. Rogers," I answered, shimmying into what I hoped wouldn't give the waiter a heart attack. "Though honestly, mon cher, out of all the names I've had in my life it's my favorite."

Steve peeked his head through the door, the smile on his face almost heartbreaking despite the toothbrush hanging out of it. "Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," I agreed, stepping around the bed to kiss his cheek. "You're my greatest adventure, Steve, and I'm going to enjoy every second with you."

"How is it that you can say the sweetest things but the only thing I can come up with is 'I love you'?"

I let out a dramatic sigh and pushed my way into the bathroom. "Because I come from a time when waxing poetry was how you told someone you loved them," I explained, jumping up onto the counter. "You're from a time when all you had to do was just say it."

He arched an eyebrow. "Waxing poetry?"

I hummed in agreement as I got my toothbrush ready. "I always picked Emily Bronte."

His brow puckered. "Isn't she a little depressive?"

I gave a shrug and popped my toothbrush into my mouth. "Love and depression went hand in hand," I told him. "If you weren't in love you were depressed, and if you weren't depressed you were in love. Sometimes, if you had particularly bad luck, you were both at the same time."

He chuckled softly. "Did you love anyone? From then?"

"No," I answered without hesitation, "I didn't know that kind of love till I met you."

His smile softened. "Waxing poetry," he accused.

I nodded my head to the side. "At least it was a little more romantic than Emily Bronte."

"That's not hard to do," he teased, making another pass over his teeth before leaning down to rinse out his mouth. "What about that mobster boyfriend of yours?"

I actually laughed at that, nearly spraying Steve in toothpaste and spit. "You mean Tommy? Tommy 'Two Toes' Ramone?"

A look of utter astonishment crossed his face. "Tommy 'Two Toes' Ramone?" he repeated. "Where the hell did that name come from?"

I kicked my leg up into the air and wiggle my toes. "He had all but two toes blown off on his left foot," I explained. "He walked with a limp but he sure could run when he needed to."

"Huh," he mused, reaching out to grab hold of my foot. "What broke it off between you two?"

I shifted against the counter, keeping a watchful eye on his fingers. "Victor did something stupid and got a hit put out on him. We had to skip town before they realized we couldn't die."

He ran his thumb up the bridge of my foot. "You just left him?"

I attempted to pull my foot away, knowing if I let him keep ahold of it he was going to tickle me. "We didn't love each other," I defended. "It was just a fling that shouldn't have lasted as long as it did."

"Did he treat you right?"

I pursed my lips as I thought for a moment. "For a gangster," I allowed.

He nodded and pressed his thumb into my arch a little harder.

A yelp of laughter left me and I jerked my foot back. "Don't you dare start that," I threatened.

"Start what?" he asked innocently.

"I'm serious, Steven, you tickle me and I'm going to choke on my damn toothbrush," I warned, pointing the offending object at him. "D'you really want to start this marriage off with me dying in a bathroom?"

He dropped my foot and held his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright," he said. "Weapons down, soldier."

I rolled my eyes and went back to brushing my teeth.

Steve chuckled to himself as he slipped out the bathroom. "Oooh!" he called after a moment of silence. "They have fluffy robes!"

I giggled and hoped down from the counter, rinsing out my mouth and toothbrush. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to say 'fluffy' again, solider," I stated, walking out of the bathroom to find him already in one.

He squared his shoulders and gave me his Captain America face. "Fluffy."

I resisted for half a second before I busted out laughing. "Oh that's fucking beautiful," I praised, managing to stumble over to him to grab hold of his face.

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. "You're fucking beautiful."

"Oooooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No, just you," he said before doing just that.


	29. Captain America Part 29

We'd been back in England for nearly two months now and I still found myself grinning like a twitterpatted idiot. I went to bed with it and I woke up with it, and honestly it was getting a little ridiculous. Though Steve was no better so we were twitterpatted idiots together, much to the annoyance of those around us. Chester especially.

* * *

"You're not going to like this."

I froze in the doorway of Chester's office, the cheerful greeting I had planned for him dying upon his own. "Uh…" I trailed off, not sure if I wanted to close the door and forget our meeting or find out just what it was I wasn't going to like.

Seeing my indecision he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."

I hesitated for a moment before stepping in. "Am I going to hate you after this conversation?" I asked as I kicked the door closed and dropped down in to the chair.

"Probably, but you'll get over it," he answered.

"Swell," I muttered. "What is it?"

"Earlier this morning we received word from a First Special Service Force unit. Apparently, they've stumbled across some information that they think will be of interest to us. The Lieutenant won't give specific details about said information because of some bullshit about unsecure channels. Honestly, I wanted to tell him to shove it but it seems that the higher ups like him. My hands are tied."

My face twisted into confusion, the thought of Chester Phillips being forced to do something not sitting right with me. "Tied with what?"

"Tied with sending you and your brothers out to retrieve the information."

"You're sending us off to God knows where to get some information that may or may not be useful, all because some ass backwards Lieutenant refuses to send it through the proper channels?"

He gave me that well known tired expression. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

I let out a frustrated sigh and slumped back in the chair. "I'm waiting for the part that makes me hate you."

Chester watched me for a moment before letting out a sigh of his own. "The Lieutenant in question is Aldo Raine."

Any semblance of happiness I had managed to hold on to quickly vanished at the sound of that name. "Please tell me you're fucking with me."

"I wish I was."

I twitched. "I hate you."

He nodded. "I understand that, but you're still going."

"They scalp people, Chester!" I exclaimed. "Him and his whole unit!"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I wouldn't really call Nazis people but I see what you mean," he allowed. "He's the stereotypical American that all of Europe wishes they could punch in the face but that doesn't change anything. He still has the information and you're still going."

I growled and got up from my chair. "This is bullshit and you know it."

"Which is why I'm not sending Captain America and The Howling Commandos," he said, pronouncing the names like one of those propaganda movies. "I know that if I send you and your brothers you'll handle it the way it needs handling."

I couldn't help but glare down at him. "The reason you're sending me and my brothers is because we won't bat an eye at the violence of their methods," I corrected. "Because you know, Nazis or not, Steve doesn't condone torture."

Chester pulled a face but didn't argue.

"When do we leave?"

"First thing in the morning," he answered before reaching into his desk and pulling out a folded map. "Stark'll drop you as close as he can, from there you'll have to make your own way. Lieutenant Raine has been so generous as to wait at the rendezvous point an extra day, in case you get held up."

"Considerate," I snorted, reaching down to take the map from him. "How long to we have to get to said rendezvous point?"

"Two days."

I frowned as I looked at the marked spot. "The middle of a forest? Seriously?"

"It's where they're stationed," he explained. "At least it's a forest in France."

I hummed in agreement and folded the map back up. "I'm sure Jimmy and Vic will be thrilled. Is there anything else I should know?"

He shook his head. "It's pretty straightforward."

"Joy, joy, joy, happy, happy, happy," I muttered, tucking the map into my jacket. "0500?"

"0500," he agreed. "See you in the AM, Agent Rogers."

* * *

The Huntsman's Pub was a staple in the Commandos lives. Conveniently located four blocks away from the S.S.R., the bar had become a somewhat of a halfway point between HQ and the hotel. After just a week of being stationed in England they had made their mark on the place, their regular table remaining empty when they weren't there, and all the bartenders had their drinks ready upon arrival.

Sarah, the sweetheart of the bunch, always seemed to be the one to greet me, that sweet smile on her face that made you want to tip her twice what the bill was. Which was what Buck and I usually did since we were suckers for those dimples.

"Good evening, Eleanor darling," she greeted with a wink when I stepped through the door, those dimples at full effect.

I couldn't help but smile back as I made my way towards the bar. "Good evening, Sarah dear," I greeted back.

"Your usual?" she asked, already reaching back to grab the bottle.

"Actually, can I get your most expensive bottle of whiskey?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Who are you bribing?"

I chuckled at how well she knew me and leaned against the counter. "My brothers," I answered. "I have to ask them to do something they don't have a choice about."

She pulled a face as she reached under the counter to grab the dusty bottle. "They're going to love that," she mused.

"Hence the bottle," I agreed, pulling out the bill I had stashed in my coat and handing it over. "Keep the change."

Sarah cocked an eyebrow at the bill. "What am I going to do when you and Barnes go back to the states and I have to find another way to pay my rent?"

I let out a snort of laughter. "Please, you save every penny that's handed to you over this counter."

Her dimples were back full force. "Well don't you have me all figured out?" she teased, snatching the bill from me and replacing it with the bottle. "Get on with your bribing."

"Never change, Sarah," I told her with a wink before turning away from the bar and starting towards the table causing the most ruckus. "Have you fellas ever had a quiet night?" I asked once I was close enough.

A chorus of greetings was my answer.

"That's a no then," I chuckled, retrieving the map from my jacket and tossing it down onto the table before setting the bottle on top of it. "Brothers mine, I'll apologize in advance," I said, patting them both on the shoulders.

They looked up to me in question.

"What'd you do now?" Vic asked, snatching the bottle up to look at the label.

"Did you sell us to the French again?" Jimmy continued, sliding the map over to unfold it.

I let out a snort of laughter. "No, but don't tempt me."

"Then what is it? You don't buy us top shelf whiskey for nothing," Vic stated, leaning over to look at the map.

"Crack open the bottle and I'll tell you," I instructed, shuffling around towards Steve.

He beamed up at me as he pushed himself away from the table, giving me enough room to plop down in his lap.

"Well hello there, soldier," I said, winding my arms around his neck.

"Hey there, honey," he retorted, leaning forward to give me a kiss, his arms winding around my waist to pull me closer.

I hummed into the affection and only pulled away when Jimmy spoke.

"What the hell is this, Lizzy?" he asked, gesturing to the map spread out on the table. "It doesn't make sense."

I chuckled and shifted on Steve to look at them better. "It doesn't make sense because it's bullshit," I answered. "A solo mission, but bullshit."

They both perked up at that. "Solo mission?" they chorused.

I nodded with a grimace. "Sadly. It's pretty much playing courier," I explained. "Some dimwitted Lieutenant in a F.S.S.F. unit came across some information he thinks will interest the S.S.R. but he won't send it through the channels because he's paranoid. The higher up's like the dimwit so they told Chester to send someone to retrieve said information. He chose our trio."

They pulled the same face and looked back to the map.

"We're leaving at 0500. Howard's going to fly us as close as he can without the threat of being shot down and then we're making our own way," I continued, stretching across the table to grab the pack of cigarettes sitting in front of Jimmy. "We're also our own extraction," I added, tapping one out and leaning towards Buck how had produced a lighter. "So you might want to start thinking on that too."

Gabe scoffed. "They're just going to leave you there?" he asked, craning his neck to look at the map.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Jimmy grumbled, snagging the bottle from Vic to drink straight from it. "I'm not dressing up like a dame this time though."

Vic snickered.

I blew out the plume of smoke above Buck's head with a wink before settling back into Steve's arms. "But you looked so good in those heels, Jimmy," I teased. "That hooker was awfully jealous."

He flipped me off while the others laughed.

"How long do we have?" Vic asked.

"Two days to get there," I answered, "but we'll make it in a day and a half if don't stop to sleep. I want to be there and gone as quickly as possible."

"Seriously, Ella?"

I gave him a pointed look. "He honestly thinks that all of our communications channels are compromised. The man has a screw loose. If you want to spend more time with him you go right ahead," I said, flicking the ash towards him before pulling in another drag. "Besides, with our luck the information he has will be a supply schedule or a list of people we're already watching."

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "Your optimism is overwhelming, Beth," he teased.

"I don't blame her," Timothy spoke up. "If the guy thinks the channels are compromised then why the hell did he sent his coordinates through? He's got more than just one screw loose."

I shared a look with my brothers.

"If we get there and it's a 'follow the clues' type bullshit I'm going to rip his throat out with my teeth," I grumbled. "He better be that fucking stupid."

Vic nodded in agreement. "I'll hold him still."

"I'm not playing treasure hunt with this asshole," Jimmy said, flicking the map to the center of the table. "We get there and there's a note nailed to a tree? We're leaving."

"Amen to that, brother. Pour me one?"

He chuckled and slid the bottle across the table towards me.

I caught it easily and pulled the cork out with my teeth before spitting it away. "Sláinte."

"Sláinte," Steve and Bucky repeated without hesitation, the three of us taking a gulp from our respective drinks.


	30. Captain America Part 30

Buchanan Barnes looked like a disgruntled house cat when hung over. Bloodshot eyes, rumpled hair, and a face full of stubble completed his look of 'talk to me and suffer'. He we was standing with my brothers by Howard's plane, his coat buttoned all the way up and a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. Honestly, I hadn't expected to see him before I left, not with Steve having to help carry him home last night.

"Jesus, Buck," Steve started, looking his friend up and down, "you look like you slept in the gutter."

Bucky's glare intensified. "Just cause you look like the sun shines out of your ass doesn't mean the rest of us have to too."

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that left me.

"Besides, I'm not here for you, I'm here for her," he continued, nodding to me. "And she doesn't care what I look like, do you, Beth?"

"Hell no," I answered, pulling away from Steve to wrap my arms around Buck's waist. "I think you're the bees knees."

That earned me a small smile and an arm thrown over my shoulders. "See?"

Steve chuckled. "Okay, Buck," he said before turning to my brothers. "I had an idea for an extraction plan if you want to hear it?"

Their eyebrows shot up and they glanced to me.

"It's a good plan," I told them with a nod. "It involved Howard though, so we should tell him too."

Bucky's arm tightened around my shoulders. "You guys go ahead, I need to talk to Beth 'bout something."

The way he said it left no room for questioning and the three headed off for the plane.

I waited till the others were out of earshot before stepping around to face him. "Everything okay, Buck?" I asked, my frown growing along with the gnawing feeling in my stomach.

He watched me for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. "I don't know."

"What's going on?" I pressed.

"You know how you and your brothers get those feelings?" he asked, pressing a hand to the center of his chest. "Those gut feelings that are always right, no matter how ridiculous they are?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, they come with the feral side of the mutation. Kind of like when animals sense natural disasters," I explained. "Why?"

"Cause I've had one sitting in my chest since I woke up."

That didn't help the knot in my stomach. "What…what is it telling you?"

He swallowed hard. "Something bad is comin', Beth," he answered, his voice cracking again. "I-I can feel it hovering over my head but every time I look there's nothing there."

I looked up myself just to make sure, but didn't see anything either. "Do you think it's this mission?" I asked.

Bucky's brow furrowed as he struggled to think. "I don't know. I can't tell."

I pulled in a calming breath and nodded. "Okay, that's fine," I reassured him, reaching up to push his hair out of his face. "Sometimes a feeling is just a feeling, Buck. They don't always mean something."

He let out a humorless laugh before sniffing, his eyes watering. "This means something. I don't know what or why but it does, and it's scaring the shit out of me. Somethings going to happen and I don't think I can stop it."

"More often than not the feelings are just warnings," I told him, rubbing my thumbs across his cheeks. "Most of the time you don't have an option of stopping them, just being prepared for them."

He shook his head. "What if something happens to one of us?" he demanded, the desperation in his voice breaking my heart. "What if one of us gets hurt? Or-or killed?"

"Nothing is going to happen to any of us, Buck," I reassured him. "I've never had a feeling about an injury or a death, neither have my brothers. Unless you've suddenly become a death omen, I think we'll be okay. Sure, something might happen, but it can't be any worse than the things we've already been through. I'm sorry that this is happening to you and that I won't be here to help you with it, but I promise that everything is going to be fine."

"I don't want a false sense of security."

"It's not," I argued. "You and Steve are going to look after yourselves and the others. If you do that then nothing's going to happen."

He let out an unsteady breath. "But what about you three?" he asked. "I know you can't die but something can still happen. What if you get captured again? You promised that we were passed the point of you getting your arm chopped off."

My eyebrows shot up. "No one's going to chop my arm off again, Buck," I told him.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Okay."

I gave him a soft smile and leaned forward to press my forehead against his. "We're going to be just fine," I cooed. "We're too goddamn pretty for God to let us die."

A snort of laughter left him and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. "I love you, Beth."

He had said that before, of course, but there had never been such sincerity behind it. I've said it too, of course, but it had never seemed to mean so much. "I love you too, Buck."

We stared at each other for a moment longer before I pulled back to press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?"

"I won't if you won't."

"Deal," I agreed, kissing his forehead once more before letting him go. "See you in a couple days?"

"In a couple of days."

* * *

In the spring of 1944, 1st Special Service Force Lieutenant Aldo Raine recruited eight Jewish-American soldiers for a mission behind enemy lines. Rain, claiming to be a direct descendant of Jim Bridger and thus part Apache, told them that they owed him 100 Nazis scalps before the end of the war. It didn't take long for them to earn the name 'The Basterds' and the fear that came with what they do. They made a point of taking no prisoners and the ones they left behind as messages were given a reminder of their sins.

While I had never been entirely comfortable with their methods, it was their Lieutenant I had the real problem with. Before the war Aldo Raine was a Maynardville, Tennessee bootlegger. I never had the displeasure of meeting him in person but Alphie had a certain soft spot for stories of 'The Apache Cowboy'. I couldn't tell you how many times I had pointed out that Raine's couldn't be both a direct descendant and part Apache since all three of Bridger's Indian wives had been Flathead and Shoshone. That information never seemed to stick and I was forced to hear more of the idiot's tall tales.

Whatever dislike I had held for the man before seemed to double upon meeting him face-to-face. I don't know if it was the 'huh' expression on his face that seemed to be permanent or the caterpillar he called a mustache on his upper lip, but I wanted to hit him.

"You're early," he seemed to accuse as he led his group into the clearing.

I shared a look with my brother's before turning back to him. "Is that a problem?" I asked, unable to help but notice that they had a bound and gagged Hydra solider amongst them.

"Nah," he answered with a shrug, "it's just surprising."

I did my best not to be offended by that. "You made it sound urgent," I told him. "And important."

He nodded his head to the side. "Which one of you is The Wolf?"

I cocked an eyebrow and looked to the Hydra agent. "I'm The Wolf," I answered, taking some satisfaction in watching him shudder. "Did he ask for me?"

Aldo glanced between the two of us with suspicious look. "He asked for Captain America."

I couldn't help but snort. "Of course he did. Did you take his cyanide tooth out?"

Confusion flashed across the men's faces.

"They have a cyanide tooth?" the taller man asked.

We nodded.

"Huh," Aldo mused, looking directly to the agent. "Guess we got ourselves a true blue traitor, boys!"

The men let out several hoots and hollers.

The Agent gave me a look that screamed 'please get me away from them'.

I couldn't help but smirk at that. "I take it that he's the information you have?" I pressed.

"Yep!" he answered enthusiastically. "Didn't even put up a fight, did he, boys? Had his hands up before we even had him to rights."

While that was amusing to him it set an uneasy feeling in my chest that I'm sure my brothers shared.

"He was by himself?"

"He was defecting," the taller man explained. "Going AWOL."

I frowned and looked back to the Hydra agent. "Du wolltest desertieren (you wanted to desert)."

He nodded desperately.

That really didn't sit right with me. "Bring him down here please," I requested, pointing to the space between us.

Aldo gestured to his men to do just that. "You heard the lady."

Two men brought the agent forward, though he probably would have gone willingly. They dropped him to his knees and leveled their guns with his head.

I gave them a thankful nod and looked down at him. "Sie werden zusammenarbeiten? (you will work together?)" I asked, pointing between the two of us. "Kein zahn.(no tooth.)"

He nodded again.

I sighed and hooked my fingers under the gag to pull it out.

"Vielen Dank, (many thanks,)" he gasped as he flexed his jaw. "Es dauerte Tage. (it was days.)"

"Warum bist du gegangen? (why did you leave?)"

He glanced over to the guns before answering. "Ich möchte leben. (I want to live.)"

I nodded slowly. "Für wen hast du gearbeitet? (for whom did you work?)"

"Schmidt," he all but spat out.

"Klaus or Johann?" I countered.

He looked to me in surprise. "Du kennst beide? (you know both?)"

"Ja. Welcher? (yes. Which one?)"

"Johann," he answered. "Roter Schädel. (Red Skull.)"

"Welche Informationen hast du, die sie davon abgehalten haben, dich zu töten? (what information do you have that prevented them from killing you?)"

He hesitated, his head lowering just a fraction. "Der Arzt (The Doctor)."

Now that surprised me. "Zola?"

"Ja. (yes.)"

"Was weißt du über ihn? (what do you know about him?)"

He pulled in a deep breath and looked back up to me. "Es gibt einen Zug. (There is a train.)"


	31. Captain America Part 31

The train would leave Nuremberg, Germany later that night for Zurich, Switzerland. According to the agent, Hydra was gearing up to make their move and Dr. Zola wanted to be nowhere hear the Allies when it happened. Being a native Swiss he had a good chance of not being extradited and would be able to continue his work. He couldn't tell us what Hydra was planning but he did know that he wasn't the only one who had tried to leave.

It had taken everything in me not to attack Aldo. If he had just done what he was supposed to do we would have known about the train nearly a week before it left. Thanks to his paranoia we lost all advantage. Any plan made now would have no room for error and that was never a good thing for the Commandos. Chester shared our anger when we had called it in, promising to make it abundantly clear to the higher ups that Aldo had severally fucked us over.

While all of this was enough to make anyone flip their wig, it was the fact that we wouldn't be on the mission that caused me to seethe. This was something so fundamentally important important for what we had been working towards, and we were in France with The Basterds.

* * *

Despite all my protesting Jimmy and Vic insisted on taking up The Basterds offer of sharing their camp for the night. My complaints were all ignored based on the fact that even if we had left right then we would have still made it back after the others. They were adamant about not going another day without food or sleep and i was in no position to deny them that, no matter how much I hated the Commandos being on their own.

By the time we reached their camp the sun was sinking down behind the mountains, drenching the forest in shadows and setting the men on edge. We would be lying if we said we weren't surprised by their camp, the sight of the two persons tests they had set up and the various tables scattered around looked far too established to be temporary.

"And I thought we were special cause they gave us extra rations," Jimmy muttered, eyeing the tents like they were going to jump out at him.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Vic agreed.

"The fellas would shit bricks if they saw this," I added, my dislike for The Basterds coming back full force.

Once they had their going we parked ourselves beside it, none of us willing to help with the fuckery their operation was. The smell of the cooking rations twisted my stomach and I ended up giving mine to Vic, ignoring his and Jimmy's objections. I hadn't been kidding when I said I'd rather eat my own foot than of those ration packs.

"So, you're The Wolf, huh?"

I looked up from the fire to the man who had spoken, his curious eyes seemingly innocent enough. "I'm The Wolf," I answered, attempting to be nice and not bring up the fact that we had already established that. "What about it?"

Donny Donowitz shifted uncomfortably on the log he was perched on. "The way the krauts talk about you? It's like you're some kind of wild animal."

Victor chuckled at that and smirked down at me. "Wild animal, huh?" he asked.

"Shut up, Vic," I grumbled.

"Nah, come on, I want to know," he encouraged, looking back to The Basterds. "What're some of the stories?"

The men looked between each other, seeming to see which one of them wanted to go first.

Aldo cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. "My favorite is the one where you tear a man's throat out with your teeth."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, doing my best to ignore the look that Jimmy was giving me. "How the fuck did that get out?"

Vic chuckled.

"Mine's the one were you strung up a whole squad of 'em in the trees around their burnt out bunker," Donny added with a certain tone of giddiness.

Vic chuckled harder.

I shot him a glare. "That was you," I hissed.

"There's a few stories of you walking away from bombings and headshots," Smithson Utivick said with a laugh. "They all seem to think that you're immortal."

Howard's voice shouted 'not immortal!' in my head and I couldn't help but grimace. "Definitely not immortal."

"But there is some truth to it all, right?" Oman Ulmar spoke up. "The stories have to be based on something."

I pursed my lips and shrugged. "That's true but things get quickly exaggerated. For example, I bite one person- don't even break the skin- but apparently, I ripped his throat out with my teeth. See the discrepancy there?"

"So some of it's true then?"

I shrugged again. "Sure. Just like I'm sure some of the stories I've heard about you have truths to them."

The men snickered at that.

"They're, uh, they're all probably true," Aldo stated with a firm nod. "You don't get a name like 'The Basterds' for having docile or underwhelming methods."

I couldn't help the bark of laughter that left me. "Oh, I'm well aware of that."

A knowing look crossed his face. "You don't agree with what we do."

"No, what I don't agree with is you misappropriating a culture just because you want to feel special," I found myself saying before I could catch myself.

Everything went still as the men looked between me and Aldo. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who figured out Aldo's little lie.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Aldo demanded, his jaw ticking in that particular way.

I considered attempting to drop the subject but the nagging voice in the back of my head told me to keep going. I pulled in a deep breath and straightened up, ready to get into something I'd been carrying around for years. "Direct descendant of Jim Bridger, right?"

"Right."

"And your claim of being part Indian comes from said ascendancy of Jim Bridger and his Indian wives, right?"

"Right."

"Apache, right?"

"Yes. What's your point?"

I couldn't help but feel a little smug. "All three of Jim Bridger's Indian wives were Flathead and Shoshone. Not one of them was Apache. In fact, there is no Apache in the family time, then or now."

Another uncomfortable silence took over the group again as the information sunk in.

Aldo's 'huh' expression was at its finest as he struggled to think of away around what I had just said.

i took the out I had created and stood up from the log. "I'm going to call it a night, fellas," I stated, flashing them a bright smile. "Sweet dreams."

The men watched in shock as I walked off into the trees, wondering just where in the hell I was planning on sleeping.

* * *

_I was in the white room again but I couldn't for the life of me remember how I had gotten there. It wasn't as bright as it usually was, the red door giving off most of the light with a thumping glow. I was mesmerized by it for a moment, trying to decide if it was more door or heart._

_"I have this feeling sitting in my chest, Beth."_

_I tore my eyes away from the door to look behind me, startled to find Bucky there, looking worse for wear. "What?"_

_One hand fisted into his shirt while the other waved uselessly above his head. "She's hovering over me! Can't you see her? She's right there!"_

_I shifted my eyes up and locked them with Morte's. She was floating lazily above his head, one hand resting under her chin and another dangling down to play with his hair._

_"You never told me he was so handsome," she accused, a softness to her voice that I'd never heard before._

_Bucky startled and looked up at her. "She keeps talking but I can't understand her," he said, his eyes watering with tears as he stared at her. "Why can't I understand?"_

_I tried to step towards him but I couldn't move. "What are you doing to him, Morte?"_

_"Everyone dies differently," she answered, dipping her hand lower to brush his forehead._

_"What?!" I exclaimed, struggling harder to get to him. "What are you talking about?!"_

_Bucky looked back to me. "Beth, can't you see her?"_

_"i see her, Buck, I see her."_

_He smiled slightly. "Isn't she beautiful?"_

_I shook my head. "Morte, stop it!"_

_She let out a wistful sigh and shook her head. "I wish I knew how," she mused, her hand trailing down the side of his face towards his chest, her lithe fingers wrapping around his just over his heart. "I really do."_

_Bucky's blissful expression dripped into a frown as her hand tightened around his. "I love you, Beth."_

_Morte's hand closed into a fist with a sickening crunch and Buck's eyes rolled back into his head._

_"NO!"_

* * *

The feeling of free-fall pulled me out of the dream just before I hit the ground. A wet click came from my shoulder as the joint popped out of place. I whimpered as I rolled over, clutching at the injured appendage as I glared up at the tree I had fallen out of. The night air stung at my cheeks and it took me a few moments to realize that I had been crying.

"Lizzy?"

I craned my neck back to look towards the camp, not at all surprised to find Jimmy walking towards me, a concerned look on his face. "Will you pop my shoulder back in?" I asked, grimacing when my voice faltered.

His concern seemed to double as he jogged the rest of the distance between us. "What'dya do to yourself, darlin'?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside me.

"I feel out of a tree," I answered with a sniff.

He gave a small chuckle as he slipped an arm under my shoulders to sit me up. "How'd that happen?"

I groaned as he jostled my shoulder. "Nightmare."

He hummed in understanding and grabbed hold of my dislocated arm. He braced his other hand on my shoulder and with a violent jerk he forced it back in.

"Motherfucker!" I snarled, curling away from Jimmy as the pain radiated through my torso.

"Why the hell were you sleeping in a tree for anyway?"

I shot him a glare. "That's a stupid question."

"Well, it was either that question or the one about your nightmare," he pointed out. "Which one do you want to answer?"

I shifted uncomfortably as the dream came back full force, my eyes watering again at the memory of Bucky's face.

"Lizzy?" he pressed, ducking down to look me in the eye. "Come on, darlin', what is it?"

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, determined not to cry again. "B-before we left, uh, Buck told me that he had this feeling sitting in his chest. He said it was like the feelings we get. Instinctual. He felt like something bad was going to happen. I-I told him that there wasn't anything to worry about but-"

"But he's becoming more and more like us," he cut in with a knowing nod.

i looked to him in shock. "How did you-"

He gave me a pointed look. "D'you really tink Vic and I can't smell it on him?"

I grimaced at that and looked down, the weight of the situation hitting me again. "What if he was right, Jimmy?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What if something really does happen?"

Jimmy let out a sigh and grabbed my shoulder again, this time the touch comforting. "Lizzy, our instinct are good, but they're not that good," he reassured me.

I shook my head. "I just watched Morte kill him."

He was quiet for a beat. "Morte was there?"

I sniffed and nodded. "She crushed his heart."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Lizzy, but it was just a dream."

I couldn't help the anger that welled up in me. "You and I both know that it's never just a dream when Morte's involved."

"You and I both know that we don't get death premonition dreams," he countered, his voice a little softer. "She can't do that for us."

"Maybe she broke the rule?"

He gave me an apologetic look. "She is the rule, Lizzy. She couldn't break it even if she tried."

I pulled in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself down. "So-so what? Buck's feeling was just a feeling and my dream was just a dream?"

He sighed and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "You've had a lot of dreams about people dying," he gently reminded me, his fingers brushing my cheek, "and none of them had actually happened. Don't you think there's a chance that you had the dream because you're worried about him? Because of what he told you?"

The sense to that made me feel all that more crazy.

"You've been working with these guys for almost three years, damn near a lifetime during war," he continued. "You've never sent them into a situation like this without you, it's understandable that you're worrying about them; especially Bucky."

I wanted to argue with him but I couldn't. Instead, I leaned into him, seeking that familiar comfort that came with his touch.

He moved his hand to cup the side of my face, his thumb running across my cheek. "They're lucky to have someone like you looking after them, darlin', but they didn't make it this far just because you were looking after them. They're some of the best there is, Lizzy, and I don't say that lightly. If anyone can pull it off it'd be them."

I swallowed thickly and gave a small nod. "I know."

"They'll be okay, Lizzy," he told her, hooking his hand behind my neck to pull me closer to him so he could press a kiss to my forehead.


	32. Captain America Part 32

It was a beautiful morning and all I wanted to do was throw up. The birds in the trees above were twittering away happily, their joy and excitement for the new day radiating off them in nauseating waves. Normally their enthusiasm would affect me, the unadulterated happiness at getting to live another day usually brought a smile to my face but not today. No, today the uneasiness from the dream soured everything. I'd had my faced pressed into Jimmy's shoulder since I woke, the dizziness and dread finding me almost instantly. Jimmy was awake but he hadn't said a word, instead holding onto me a little tighter. I couldn't tell how long we'd been huddled there or how long I had been trying to make myself move, but it felt like a lifetime before Victor showed up.

"'One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the unknown coming to an end'."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise and I peeked up from Jimmy's shoulder to find Vic standing a few feet away. "Did you just quote Jiddu Krisnamurti?" I demanded, wincing at how rough my voice sounded.

He gave a small shrug. "Jiddu seemed appropriate for the situation."

I let out an affirming hum and shifted my eyes towards Jimmy. "When did you tell him?"

Jimmy went to answer but Vic cut him off.

"He didn't have to," he stated, closing the few steps that separated us and crouching down to our level. "I could've smelled it on you a mile off," he explained, a comforting tone to his voice. "You're worried about the pup."

I couldn't help the snort that left me. "Pup?"

Vic gave me a pointed look. "You're the one who adopted him, Ella, I'm not gonna call him little brother."

I took a moment to consider that before nodding my head to the side. "Suppose that's fair," I muttered. "And yes, I am worried about him."

He watched me for a moment before nodding slowly. "Well," he started as he straightened up, "guess we better go check on him then, huh?"

For the second time in ten minutes he surprised me. "Really?"

Vic glanced to Jimmy before nodding. "Really."

* * *

Getting back to England had been easier than I had first thought. All it took was acquiring three parachutes and bribing a cargo pilot into taking a slight detour over England. After three hours of Jimmy complaining and a parachute jump that ended with Victor in the Thames, we were finally home.

The smell of smoke and dust hit me once we were a few blocks away from headquarters. It caused all three of us to share a look of 'what the fuck?' before taking off. Rounding the last corner we stumbled to a stop at the sight of the devastated street. The familiar buildings laid in ruble along the pavement like discarded children's toys.

"You don't think it hit headquarters, do you?" Jimmy asked, a worried edge to his voice.

A spike of panic shot through me. "Dorothy," I breathed before taking off again, my brothers close behind me.

The building itself was only slightly damaged, a small miracle in the horrible situation. A few broken windows here and there, a bookcase or two knocked over, and a thin layer of dust covered everything.

"Doesn't look too bad," Jimmy mused as he sniffed at the room. "I don't think she was here."

I let out a relief filled sigh and I moved to the back wall bookcase, a little worried when I saw the wall lamp on the floor. With a huff and a well-placed shove it came free and the dimly-lit stairwell appeared. "Steve probably knows where she is," I mused, glancing back at them as I made my way down. The sudden hush that greeted me on the other side of the swinging doors stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Yeah, cause that's a good sign," Vic muttered, glaring at the silent personnel as he stepped forward. "Where's Captain Rogers?"

One brave secretary cleared her throat and glanced nervously between us. "You-you really should speak with Colonel Phillips first," she told us.

"Why?" I pressed, trying to keep my voice from wavering. "Did something happen to Steve?"

She startled and shook her head quickly. "No! No, Captain Rogers is alive," she said with a reassuring smile. "You-you should just really speak with Colonel Phillips first."

Several agents nodded in agreement, giving me their own reassuring smiles.

"Okay," Jimmy said, moving up to stand beside Vic, "is he in his office?"

"No, he's-"

"Right here," Chester said, pushing his way through the crowd to us, a somber look on his face. "Eleanor, James, Victor, if you'd come with me please?"

Momentarily shocked by his use of our first names we were slow in following him to his office, the tense silence right behind us.

"Have a seat," he instructed, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk as he moved around to take his own.

"Chester, please," I pleaded, shifting anxiously in my spot by the closed door. "Just tell me."

He let out a tired sigh and turned his attention back to me, that somber look twisting my stomach tighter. "Sergeant Barnes was killed in action last night."

A whimper left me and I slumped back against the door, my eyes watering furiously. "Wh-what happened?"

Victor gave me a soft look. "Ella…"

"I want to know," I stated. "Chester, tell me."

"He fell," he started, his voice wavering just slightly, "from the train. Rogers tried to pull him back up but…"

"But?" I choked out.

He watched me for a moment before grabbing one of the files off his desk and holding it out to me. "It's Steve's report. You should read it."

I sniffed and stepped forward, taking the file from him with a shaky hand. "Is he here?"

Chester shook his head. "He left when he finished the report."

"We'll find him, Lizzy," Jimmy reassured, rubbing a hand up my back.

I pulled in a steadying breath and nodded, hesitating for a moment before opening the file. Steve's handwritten was shaky and nearly unintelligible by the end, but I made it through the whole thing. I was worse for wear but I made it through.

"His-his bo-" I cut off to swallow hard. "His body…"

Chester cleared his throat. "Was not recovered," he confirmed. "Rogers wasn't sure where he fell."

I nodded numbly and handed the file back to him. "Zola?"

"Sitting in our interrogation room," he answered, nodding in the right direction. "He's being very cooperative."

"He's a goddamn coward, of course he's cooperating," Jimmy snarled.

"We get a crack at him, right?" Vic asked, giving Chester a look that couldn't be argued with.

Chester looked between the three of us. "We need him alive," he stated.

"Why?" they demanded.

"Because he knows things," I told them with a sniff. "About Hydra, about the Schmidts, about….everything," I finished lamely. "As fucked up as it is he's worth more alive than in pieces."

The two gave me a surprised look but didn't press the issue.

"Eleanor," Chester started, giving me a pointed look, "he's asked after you a few times."

My stomach rolled and the nausea from this morning welled up again. "Really?"

He nodded and turned his attention to his desk. "I wouldn't be against you haven't a conversation with the little guy," he offered, glancing up to me. "If you want."

I let out the breath I'd been holding and pulled in another one, trying to pull myself back together. "What I want is Steve," I told him before spinning on my heel and walking out of the office.

* * *

" _The blackout is still in effect throughout the London area. Please wait for the all-clear. Your attention. Please. All citizens shall remain indoors until further notice."_

The voice on the loudspeakers echoed through the abandoned streets, following me as I made my way to the burnt-out shell that was once The Huntsman's Pub. Memories of the various mission celebrations flittered through my head as I tried to remember what every detail had looked like before the bombs dropped. A part of me was severally disappointed when I couldn't even remember what color the paint was. I stepped through the wreckage, careful not to disrupt anything as I followed Steve's scent.

He had up-righted our table and one of the chairs, a half-empty bottle of whiskey and a cracked glass in front of him. His dress uniform was pressed, the crisp fabric a hard contrast to the man wearing it. Even with his back to me I could see how badly his hair was disheveled, various parts sticking up from where he had ran his fingers through it.

That throat burning feeling hung thick in the air and I knew the moment I touched him I would lose it, but all control I had left disappeared when I saw the tremor in his shoulders. I was across the room in an instant, my arms winding around his neck while I buried my face in his hair. Just like I knew it would the wave of emotions hit me and I gave in.

Steve had stiffened at the sudden contact but quickly relaxed when he heard my whimper. "He's- he's gone, Ellie," he stuttered out, reaching up to grip at my arms while tears of his own started. "Buck's gone."

"I know, mon cher," I choked out, kissing the top of his head.

"I tried to s-save him but I-" he cut off, the tremors turning into jerks as he hunched over into himself. "I could-couldn't reach h-him and he-he fell. I just w-watched him."

"Shhh," I whispered, stepping around till I stood between him and the table. "It's not your fault, Steve," I managed, brining my hands up to cup his face, forcing him to look up at me. "You did everything you could."

His face twisted in pain and he screwed his eyes shut, fat tears streaking down his cheeks. "I coulda saved him."

I shook my head and wiped away his tears the best I could. "I read the report," I told him, my voice cracking. "You-"

"Coulda saved him," he repeated, his chest constricting as he struggled to catch his breath.

I felt the anxiety start to overwhelm the sorrow and grief, the start of a fit hovering just around the corner. "Steve, listen to me," I said, my voice weaker than I would have liked. "You and I both know that you did everything you could have possibly done because it was for Bucky. You would move Heaven and Earth for him if you could and he knows that. We all know that. You know that. What happened was unfair and cruel and I am so sorry that you had to see it, but there was nothing more you could have done. The last thing Bucky would want you to do was blame yourself for a decision he made," I told him, getting choked up again at how young he looked with those baby-blues staring up at me.

"He didn't decide to die."

"No, he didn't," I agreed with a soft smile, "but he did decide that he would die for you, just like you would for him. And he decided that when you two were just kids in Brooklyn, long before Captain America," I explained, swallowing the lump in my throat so I could keep the smile. "He loves you just as much as you love him, you know that, right? He would have let the world burn if it meant keeping you safe."

A spike of guilt shot through him. "I wish he had."

"Me too," I sniffed with a nod. "That's why he's the sane one."

He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head forward onto my stomach, his arms wrapping around my waist.

I ran a hand up and down his back while I threated the other through his hair, scraping my nails across his scalp the way I knew calmed him. The tremor was back in his shoulders but the overwhelming urge to curl up in a corner had subsided, leaving behind the new feeling of emptiness and lose.

"Even when I had nothing I had Buck," he said, his voice muffled against my shirt. "What do I do without him, Ellie?"

I let out a soft sigh and held him a little tighter. "If it had been you, what would you want him to do?"

He was quiet for a moment. "To keep going."

"Would he want you to do the same thing?"

"Yes," was his muffled response.

"Then that's what we'll do," I told him, smoothing his hair back. "We'll keep going for Buck. We'll do everything for Buck."

Steve pulled back to look up at me again, a new spark in his eyes. "Together?"

I gave a firm nod. "Together."

A heart wrenching smile twitched at his lips. "Thank you, Ellie."

It felt wrong saying 'you're welcome' so I didn't, instead leaning down to give him a soft kiss. "It's going to be okay, mon cher," I cooed. "We're gonna take care of each other, alright? For Buck."

He nodded and pressed his forehead against mine. "For Buck."


	33. Captain America Part 33

He'd been sleeping when I came in, slumped forward on the table with his glasses sitting off to the side. I'd somehow managed to open the door without waking him, the stress of the day probably taking a toll on him. The wall across from the table consisted of a two-way mirror, giving whoever stood on the other side of it a nice view of my ass pressed against the glass. It took exactly 7 minutes and 48 seconds for my anxiousness to return and I found myself digging through my pockets for my pack of cigarettes. I pulled one free and ignited the lighter, the sound of the flint striking sharp enough to startle Zola awake.

His balding head raised slowly from his arms, the movement cautiously slow.

"Did you have a nice nap?" I asked, the smoke billowed towards the ceiling.

The hand that had been reaching for his glasses froze, those bug eyes I saw in my dreams turning towards me. "Fraulein?"

My nerves grated at the sound of his voice and I pulled in another drag. "Did you have a nice nap?" I repeated.

He paused a moment longer before finally putting his glasses on. "I have slept in worse places," he answered with a sigh, sitting up a little straighter as he looked me over.

"Did they bring you food?"

Zola blinked at the question. "Yes, but I did not eat it."

I let out a harsh laugh. "We're not going to poison you," I assured you. "You're not going to get off that easily."

"I suspected not," he agreed with a sigh. "So, what is my punishment? Am I to be executed at dawn?" he chuckled.

"Well, if it was up to me," I started, taking another drag as I let my head drop back against the glass, "I would have you strapped to a table with your abdomen split ope. I'd remove your organs one by one and show you, saving your heart for last so you can watch it stop beating."

He had paled considerably but to his credit he hadn't cowered. "Why do I feel like you have put great thought into that?"

It was a rhetorical question but I answered it anyway. "Because you're a fucking calamity and you need to be put down."

"I am calamity?" he asked, sounding actually offended.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Would you prefer  _fan? (devil?)"_

Zola grimaced but didn't make another comment.

I watched him for an agonizingly long moment before flicking the ash in his direction. "Why did you ask to speak with me?"

"You have questions, do you not?"

I gave a shrug and took another drag, letting the smoke seep out through my teeth. "You do realize that you're a prisoner of war, right? I don't need your invitation to ask questions."

"True," he allowed, nodding his head to the side. "But I thought it more prudent to offer the answers, rather than have you demand them."

I scoffed. "What do you care about prudency?"

"I do not, but you should."

"And why's that?"

"Because there is still hope for Sergeant Barnes."

I bit down on the edge of my tongue to keep me from lunging at him. "You're going to have to elaborate."

He didn't seem that put off by my lack of reaction. "Do you remember, when we first met, I had mentioned that our experiment had-"

"Enabled you to move forward with a problem you have been stuck on for quite some time," I recited. "Your bastardized version of the Super Soldier Serum. The one you tested on Sergeant Barnes."

Zola had the gal to smile. "Yes, my serum," he agreed. "Your blood and tissue samples had unlocked the secret to programming the body into healing itself. Do you see? Sergeant Barnes was becoming like you."

"I'm aware of that."

He gave a small shrug. "And could you not survive a fall from a train?"

My teeth ground as I glared at him. "He was nowhere close to what I am," I all but snarled.

He cocked his head to the side. "You are so sure?"

A stab of guilt twisted in my gut at that. I had been neglectful in keeping up with Bucky's mutation, instead relying on Howard to continue the tests and track the data. I hadn't spoke with him in depth about it since before the wedding. "You want me to believe that Sergeant Barnes could have survived that fall?"

He gave a firm nod. "Precisely."

"Probability percentage?"

"Based off of the data I was able to collect during his time with us and assuming that it remained constant? 75%"

That number was far too high to be comfortable with. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Zola gave a soft shrug as he shook his head. "You do not, but considering my position I have no reason to do such."

The implications of that were making me nauseous and I pulled in one final drag before stubbing out the cigarette. "That's all you wanted to talk about?" I pressed.

He nodded.

"And you want nothing in return?"

"It would be useless to ask for something now, would it not?" he asked with a pointed look.

"Yes it would," I agreed, pushing off the mirror and all but marching through the door, pulling it shut behind me with an echoing slam.

"Ella?"

I spun around and found Vic and Jimmy watching me with a concerned looks. They had been on the other side of the mirror. I pulled in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "Will you do something for me?" I asked, my voice unashamedly weak.

"You want us to look for him."

"I want you to find him."

Their concerned expression turned sympathetic.

"Lizzy, can you honestly tell us that you think he's alive?"

I shook my head as I stepped away from the door. "You don't understand," I told them. "It isn't about if he is alive or not. It's about us bringing him home."

"Ella-"

"He would do the same for any of us and we know that!" I snapped, the tears in my eyes welling angrily. "If I could I would go but I can't , so I'm asking you to do this for him. For me and for Steve, and for everyone else. Please?"

Their jaws ticked as they looked at each other, the question clear on their faces before letting out sighs.

Vic gave me a soft smile and moved towards me, leaning down to drop a kiss to my forehead. "We'll find him, Ella," he murmured.

"Yeah, Liz, we'll bring him back," Jimmy agreed, swooping down to press a kiss of his own in the same spot. "No matter what."

I gasped in a breath and nodded desperately. "Thank you."

* * *

Bucky's room was not what you would expect from an officer. The drawers of his dresser were left open with various articles of clothes hanging over the sides. His desk was cluttered with parts of that radio he'd been rebuilding, a book standing open to the page showing him the next step. His dress uniform and shoes laid across his trunk from the last time he wore it, the protocol of keeping it pristine at all times obviously ignored. The bed was always a disheveled mess, the comforter and sheets either tossed or twisted at the foot due to his troubled sleep.

Steve was laying on said bed, Bucky's pillow clutched to his chest with his face pressed into the fabric. He was still in his uniform, his care for protocol seeming to mach Buck's. His Irish complexion was worrying flushed, the serum usually only taking a few minutes to erase all evidence of emotional turmoil. He had cried more after I left him.

It broke my heart, but in this moment, I felt like an intruder.

"That you, honey?" Steve's sleep thick voice asked.

I focused back to him, his face still pressed into the pillow. "Yes, mon cher, it's me," I answered, unsticking myself from the floor and stepping closer.

"Where'd ya go?" he murmured.

"I was just taking care of a few things," I told him, reaching out to grab the laces of the closest shoe. "I'm sorry I left you."

"'s fine," he mumbled. "Buck was here."

I swallowed hard and forced myself to concentrate on his shoes. "Good," I said, tugging one free and setting it on the floor. "I'm glad he kept you company."

"Buck's always here."

"Yes he is," I agreed, pulling the other free and setting it beside its twin. "He'd never leave you."

He hummed and curled his legs up further, as if to make himself as small as he could.

I resisted the urge to ask him if he was okay and instead reached down to gather the sheets and covers. A part of me felt guilty for disturbing what Bucky had left but a larger part of me knew he'd want me to take care of Steve. That had been our agreement, after all, to look after Steve if something was to happen to one of us. Buck had laughed at first, reminding me that I couldn't die, and I had reminded him that there were worse things than death.

"Honey?"

"Yes?" I asked as I pulled the blankets over him.

"You'll stay?"

"Always."


	34. Captain America Part 34

_The smell of rain and pine hung in the air as I stared up into the glossy white. The room had never had a smell before but somehow that one fit. Soft bird calls came with the scent, an odd sound but once again, somehow fitting._

_"Lisbeth."_

_I startled and twisted around towards the voice, a choked gasp leaving me when I saw Bucky standing in the doorway of the red door. The rain and pine and bird song were coming from the other side of the door, a bright lush forest through the opening. He looked healthier than I had seen him in a long time, his hair coifed and a spark in his eye._

_"Beth, you gotta see this," he said, stepping through the door and out of sight._

_I stared after him in shock for a moment before stumbling to my feet and after him. "Buck, wait for-" I cut off when the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the room. "What? Nonononononono," I chanted, grabbing at the doorknob desperately. "C'mon you son of a bitch! Open!"_

_"You know it won't, Lune."_

_A shiver ran down my spine at the sound of her voice. "It opened for Buck, why won't it open for me?"_

_"You know why, Lune."_

_"How is that fair?!"_

_"You know it's not, Lune."_

_I struggled harder against the door, abandoning the handle to claw at the wood. "Bucky!"_

_"You know that's not going to do anything, Lune."_

_"Bucky!" I called, my nails leaving deep gauges in the door, black blood oozing down to the floor. "Bucky! Come back!"_

_"You know he can't, Lune."_

_"Bullshit!" I snapped. "He went in, he can come out!"_

_"You know it doesn't work that way, Lune."n_

_"We're going to change how it works!" I decided, putting more force into my clawing, my hands slick with the blood; both mine and the door's. "I'm going to tear this fucking thing down and I'm going to get him back!"_

_"You know you're not the first one to try that, Lune," she soothed, her pale hands appearing on her shoulders. "You know you won't succeed, Lune."_

_I struggled against her hands as they pulled me back, her grip feather-light but absolute. "Please! Morte, please! Let me get him! Please!"_

_"You know I can't, Lune."_

_I tore at her hands, adding her blood to the already dying mess. "I can't leave him there! I have to keep him safe! I have to give him back to Steve!"_

_"I'm sorry, Lune," her voice cooed as the white began to dim, the red door fading with it._

_"NO!"_

* * *

I flailed awake, my body throwing itself out of the arm chair and towards the door, only stopping when I realized where I was. My breathing was erratic and the faint smell of rain and pine lingered in my head, making me nauseous. I swayed on my feet for a moment before all but running into the bathroom, not having the foresight to turn on the light or close the door. The whiskey I'd had for dinner came back with a vengeance, the stomach acid it was mixed with burning the back of my throat. I coughed and gagged as it kept going, my body tensing through every heave.

"El?"

I managed to glance towards the doorway, recognizing Howard a moment before I was heaving again.

"It's okay, El," he said, shutting the door and flicking the switch.

I flinched at the sudden light and turned my head away, a groan leaving me when another wave of nausea hit me. "Why're you here, Howie?" I asked, my voice raw.

"I wanted to check on you two," he answered, reaching down to pull my hair back. "Came straight here after dropping your brothers off."

The memory of the request sent me heaving again.

"Easy, El," he said, rubbing a hand up and down my back. "Just breathe, okay? Try to breathe."

It seemed impossibly but I tried, a part of me knowing that if I just calmed down it would stop. A few agonizing minutes later I was breathing steadily and the nausea had faded just enough for me to lean into the wall, my flushed cheek pressed to the cool paint. Howard produced a glass of water and told me to wash my mouth out, the taste of it all making my nose scrunch.

"There you go, sweetheart."

I didn't have the heart to tell him off and simply slumped further into the wall. "He's gone, Howie."

"I know."

"I tried to get him back but he wen't through the door."

Howard was quiet for a moment. "What door, El?"

"The Red Door," I answered. "It won't open for things like me, but I tried. I tried to get him back."

Hearing the wavering in my voice he nodded quickly. "Of course you did, sweetheart."

"She said I couldn't do it but I know I could have."

"Who stopped you, El?"

"Fleur de Morte," I whispered, scanning the room to make sure she wasn't there, a certain kind of relief filling me when I didn't find her.

Howard's brow had furrowed. "Flower of Death? El, that doesn't make any-"

I let out a shaky hum. "I know, but she has so many names in so many languages. I don't think even she knows her original name. Maybe she doesn't have one, maybe she's just a Human manifestation of our inevitable demise and she doesn't-"

"El," Howard interrupted, his hands coming up to grab hold of my face, "El, sweetheart, you need to calm down, okay? It was just a dream."

A laugh more closer to a sob left me as I shook my head. "No, Howie, it wasn't," I argued, the tears welling up and spilling over. "It wasn't."

"Okay, El, I'm sorry," he murmured, shuffling closer to me. "I'm sorry."

I chocked back another sob and pushed off the wall, burying myself into Howard's chest. "He's gone, Howie," I groaned. "Buck's gone."

Howard sighed and wound his arms around me, pulling us over so he could lean back against the tub. "I know, El," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "It's alright, let it out."

My sobs came harder as he rocked us back and forth, the emotions not only rolling off of Steve, but off Howard and myself getting the better of me. "There's so much pain, Howie," I croaked. "Steve's drowning in it and I'm barely holding him up. I'm choking on it."

He stilled. "What do you mean you're holding him up?"

"I thought I could shoulder it. For him. For Buck. But there's just so much and I don't know if I can't do it," I sobbed out, burying my face deeper into his shoulder. "Touching him hurts so much but it's all I can do to help. It's all I can do. He needs me, Howie, what else am I supposed to do? I have to help him."

"You were leeching his emotions, weren't you?" he accused, an edge to his voice. "El, you had a brain hemorrhage the last time you did that. You could cause permanent damage if you keep doing that."

I shook my head and tried to push away from him. "You know what I know, Howie," I denied. "The serum enhanced everything. Everything. If this keeps constant, if he feels this, it will kill him. I can't let that happen. I can't."

Howard nodded quickly, his grip on me tightening. "You're right, I do know what you know," he agreed, "but, El, he wouldn't want you doing this."

"He blames himself but it's not his fault. He didn't know, we didn't tell him, but we should have. Buck was so worried about something happening to us that we never stopped to think about something happening to him. He was Buck. He was becoming like us. He should have been okay. Fuck, Steve doesn't even know about that. We should have told him. We should have told him everything.

"El, don't worry about that now," he said as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "There's bigger things to focus on, sweetheart. He's not going to blame you for not telling him, it wasn't your secret to tell, and if he had known it wouldn't have changed anything. You know that Bucky wouldn't have let himself be treated differently."

"He wouldn't have had a fucking choice."

He let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, cause that would have ended well."

"At least he'd still be alive."

Howard sighed and slumped back a little further, his head coming down to rest on top of mine. "I'm sorry, Eleanor."

I pulled in a jagged breath and let it out slowly. "You won't tell Steve what I'm doing will you, Howie?"

"No, I won't tell him, sweetheart," he reassured me, "but if I start to see it taking a toll then you have to stop, okay?"

A tremor began in my hands as I thought of what that would do to Steve. At least with me I knew I'd live through it, even if in the end I wouldn't want to. No, I had to get better at bearing the weight and coping with the side effects.

"El?"

"Okay."

I knew he didn't believe me but he didn't press the issue, probably knowing it would lead to an argument if he did. "Alright. Do you feel okay to move now?"

I nodded against his shoulder and pulled away from him, shifting back just far enough to let him up first. "D'you think Steve's going to be okay, Howie?"

Howard nodded as he got to his feet. "He'll be okay eventually, El," he said, holding his hands out to me. "We're going to make sure of that."

I swallowed thickly and gave him a weak smile, letting him pull me up. "Thank you, Howie."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Of course, sweetheart."

* * *

Despite Howard's reassurances I didn't find sleep that night. I'd managed to get the genius to leave after a few well-meaning white lies and returned to my spot on the arm chair. Steve's arm still hung limp off the side of the bed, his fingers curled slightly from where mine had been not too long ago. The itch to latch back onto it burrowed into my hand, my fingers tapping restlessly against my leg. The itch to latch back onto it burrowed into my hand, my fingers tapping restlessly against my leg.

"Honey?"

My fingers clawed into my leg as I followed his arm up to his face, struck hard by his baby-blues. "Did I wake you?"

He blinked lazily at me for a moment before his fingers twitched towards me. "Where'd ya go?"

I dug my fingers harder into my leg and gave him a soft smile. "I didn't go anywhere, Mon cher."

He shook his head softly and buried his face back into the pillow. "You were in my head," he mumbled. "I could feel you."

A sharp spike of panic shot through my chest. "What?"

"I could feel you," he repeated. "You made everything better."

The panic lessened at that, my fingers starting to twitch again. "I did?"

He have me a small smile that broke my heart. "You always do, Ellie."

I hesitated for a moment before clearing my throat. "So, you...you like me in your head then?" I asked, a part of me really hoping that was true.

An almost serene look came over his face. "I do," he answered, "but I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because of the blood. There's always blood."

"There wasn't this time."

He raised his head from the pillow to give me a good look-over, his baby blues still blurry with sleep. "Then why were you cryin'?"

Said tears sprang back to my eyes and I gave him a soft smile. "Because Buck's not here."

Realization swept across his face. "Oh."

I hummed softly before scooting to the edge of the chair, my knees almost touching the bed. "Mon cher, do you think..." I trailed off, trying to think of a way to word it, "do you think that the first time was so bad because neither of us were prepared for it? Because we didn't know what was happening?"

Those blurry baby blues stared up at me with conflict, his sleep addled and exhausted brain trying to think through what I had asked him.

"Do you think," I continued, "that if we have complete awareness it wouldn't be so bad? That maybe we'd been fighting each other subconsciously?"

"I..." he trailed off, the worry lines appearing between his brows. "I don't want to hurt you, Ellie."

"I don't want to hurt you either," I told him. "All I'm asking is that we try it. If it hurts or doesn't feel right then we'll stop and I won't ask again."

Steve watched me for a moment before he moved his outstretched hand closer to mine, his fingers reaching once again.

I let out the breath I had been holding and smiled. "Don't fight me, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, mirroring my smile.

"Thank you," I said, hesitating for just a moment before slipping my hand back into his.

What was once an onslaught of emotions was now a gentle wave, the current pulling me under with ease. There was no thrashing or struggle, no need to fight for control or to keep calm. There was a bit of trepidation towards the unknown but there was no resistance. Swirls of gold swam through the black, drawing lazy patterns in afterglow. I could feel Steve around me, the usual hyperactive frenzy that was his head calmed to a soft hum.

Everything was going to be okay.


End file.
